


2 Sons: Dirty Love, No Romance

by Harlee_Quinn



Series: 2 Sons [2]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 237,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlee_Quinn/pseuds/Harlee_Quinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman from Happy’s recent past shows up in Charming with a surprising connection to SAMCRO and an offer they can’t refuse. She may prove to be the Club’s salvation, but the price will include Happy’s freedom, one way or another. Meanwhile, as Jax tries to take the Club in a new direction against Clay’s wishes, Marlowe’s past threatens to tear their newly formed family apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

**A/N:** _**I'm baaack!** _

**I hope everyone is having a great summer. Mine has been soaked with blood, sweat and tears as I have spent night and day working on the** **second story in the 2 Sons Trilogy. This story,** **Dirty Love, No Romance** **,** **picks up several months after** **Call of Duty** **ended with Jax and the Club still invested in their gun running business with the Irish. In the meantime, Jax has managed to get the Club's second legitimate business, Unser Trucking, up and running.**

 **This story will find Happy Lowman—the Club's Sergeant-at-Arms—reintroduced to an OC whose background and experience may prove to be advantageous to the Sons. With the Club taking its first steps on a path towards legitimacy, Happy fully supports Jax** **'** **s ambitious plans for SAMCRO, but has yet to reconcile himself with leaving behind his outlaw ways. Determined to keep his word to his brother by helping steer the Club in a new direction, Happy is eagerly anticipating the end of gun running as the time for him to move away from SAMCRO for life on the road as a Nomad. Before that can happen, however, Happy will have to revisit the dark side of being an outlaw, which he is more than willing to do.**

 **Introduced in Chapter 40 of** **Call of Duty** **, Nicoletta "Nico" Torelli (better known to Happy as "Tiny") is not the typical biker groupie that the SAA is accustomed to. Coming from a world that is woefully different but at the same time eerily similar to his own in Charming, Happy makes the mistake of underestimating Nico as just "pussy". Letting his guard down, Happy unwittingly embarks on a journey with the formidable woman who has the potential of changing his life forever . . . if he lets her.**

**Meanwhile, Jax once again finds himself at odds with his stepfather, Clay Morrow, as he finally puts his agenda for legitimizing the Club on the table. With Clay seemingly determined to undermine him at every turn, the only thing keeping Jax focused is the love and support he's getting from his new old lady, Marlowe Guthrie. Unfortunately, that too may be taken away from him when Marlowe's past rears its ugly head.**

**As usual with me, this story will be a mix of Club business, romance and family drama that will go far in setting up the third and final installment of this trilogy. As these themes play out there will be times when Jaxlowe and other main characters may be AWOL for a bit, but don't worry. Loose threads are always dealt with as there is plenty of action planned to go around.**

**The rating on this story will be "T" for a hot minute. I guess I should probably warn you guys ahead of time—although I kinda think the title is a dead giveaway—that certain situations between Happy and Nico may get a bit twisted and steamy. Just don't say I didn't warn ya when the rating suddenly changes to "M" (which we all know really stands for "Triple X"—well, for me, anyways.)**

**So without further ado, please strap in for some** **Dirty Love, No Romance** **. (And if you read, please review. It's much appreciated and sorely needed.)**

**Hugs, Harlee.**

* * *

_**Saginaw, Oregon – Wednesday, January 5, 2011** _

Considering that it was the only family-friendly stop within a 15-mile radius, the Gettings Creek rest area and service station off of Interstate 5 did not have the best of reputations. Located about 18 miles south of Eugene, the way station catered primarily to the truckers who made their living delivering cargo all over the country. While a fair number of these truckers were tax-paying, law-abiding citizens and decent men and women, more than a few were barely a step above anti-social miscreants who subsisted on Meth or other narcotics to see them through long cargo hauls. Known for giving hard-working truckers a bad name, these sociopaths were to be avoided both on the road and in the truck stops, which they mostly frequented in search of the always available cheap pussy and/or drugs.

Not unlike other rest stops in the Pacific Northwest, Gettings Creek had two main service sections. One provided for the needs of the general public, consisting more likely than not of road-weary businessmen and families on their way to or from vacations in one of several regional parks, including the Redwood National Forest. The other, seedier side of the rest area was a career trucker's paradise comprised of a greasy spoon diner, diesel gas station, restrooms with on-site shower facilities, and a huge parking lot where these commercial drivers could park their huge rigs and, in relative safety, get some much-needed sleep before hitting the road again.

But food, gas and lodging wasn't all that could be found at these highway oases as these men who made a living on the road—whether lawfully or not—had other needs to satisfy after being away from home for days and weeks at a time. With truck stops usually a gathering place for women of ill repute, a lonesome traveler with the desire for a physical release and the right amount of change in his pocket could easily procure the kind of companionship that involved the exchange of bodily fluids.

After indulging in the high-end caliber of women available at Jury's place in Indian Hills, however, the pussy in these parts was way below the standards this particular road warrior had grown accustomed to. Still, it _was_ cheap and Happy Lowman wasn't known to have ever turned his nose up at a bargain. _Especially_ not when he had managed to haggle the price down to half of what the haggard-looking hooker regularly charged for a blow job.

Now sitting on his bike seat smoking a cigarette—after the skanky blonde had finished guzzling his load—Happy was on high alert as he watched the comings and goings of the diner's customers. The aromas emanating from the garishly lit restaurant, a combination of charcoaled-burnt meat and stale garbage was enough to choke a bear and not in the least bit appetizing. The sign above the building that resembled the double-wide trailers common in these parts with large picture windows identified the eatery-slash-ground zero for a hepatitis outbreak as Big Al's Honky Tonk Café. The loud twang of old school country music blared through the constantly open door as departing truckers—having satisfied their basic needs to eat and drink—were greeted by the prostitutes happily available to take care of a man's most primal of needs, the need to fuck.

Happy watched with an amused smirk as one potbellied trucker grabbed a hold of a big breasted redhead with pock-marked skin and dragged her off to the bed of his parked rig. "Poor schmuck's paying for a case of the herps with that one, for sure," the biker muttered under his breath to his brother sitting on his own ride next to him.

Chibs chuckled. "He's a right fat bastard too, eh? He'll be sure to crush the poor whore, more's the pity." Reaching into his kutte, he pulled out his prepay and checked the time. "I thought our boy was just takin' a shite and grabbin' something quick to eat. What's takin' the fucker sae long?"

"Who the fuck knows?" Happy growled. "All I know is that if I have to go in there and remind him that he's on the clock, it won't be pretty. I'm bored with this shit duty as it is and I won't mind livening it up bit with a good ol' fashioned ass kicking."

"Alrighty then, brutha," Chibs clapped a hand on Happy's shoulder. "Since we need the bastard to finish the run, mayhap I'll go light a fire under his slow arse wit'out drawin' blood," he suggested as he started towards the diner.

As the point man on this particular protection run for Unser Trucking—which was now under new management—Happy had been on the road for over a week. Taking a few days to visit his mother and aunt, he and his crew were working a double protection run that had originated in Bakersfield. After successfully transporting and delivering a cargo of laptops to San Francisco, they then picked up another shipment fresh off a cargo ship from China to transport north of the border into British Columbia.

Happy had started this protection run determined to keep a tight schedule and, so far, they were running on time. Not including rest breaks for the truck's driver, it had taken nearly fifteen hours to make it to Oregon from San Francisco and they were on target to make it across into Canada in another seven. Gettings Creek would have to be their last stop if the intention was to get the shipment to its destination by eight o'clock that morning. With a 15-hour trip back to Charming left to be made, Happy wanted no more delays in getting his ass back out on the road.

The protection runs he had been running point on lately were a hell of a lot different from what the SAMCRO SAA was used to. While the Club was still heavily invested in the trade that had put bread on their table for many years, as of late, instead of running top military-grade merch like AK-47s, MAC-10s, FN-67s, RPGs and 50-caliber machine guns for the Real IRA, Happy found himself babysitting shipments of high-end flat screen TVs and smart phones. Although he was in full support of his President's decision to move SAMCRO away from guns, to Happy's way of thinking, gun running was way more fuckin' sexy and bad ass than playing rent-a-cop for a bunch of shit electronics bound to be on sale at a Best Buy near you.

An outlaw biker for most of his adult life, Happy was finding the idea of leaving behind the "outlaw" part of the Life somewhat constraining. When initially approached by Jax Teller with his radical vision for the Club's future as a completely legit organization, Happy had made the decision to support him even though it meant getting out of the gun trade. Considering the pros and cons beforehand, Happy had resolved that the good—such as an end to the violence and no more forced "vacations" in Stockton Prison—far outweighed the bad. At the time, the only "bad" Happy could think of was losing the bank that came from selling guns to every gangbanger crew, MC and organized crime syndicate in NorCal.

Now, sitting on his bike in the parking lot of some transient shithole in the dead of winter at almost one o'clock in the morning, it dawned on Happy that the biggest "con" of all was the constant state of mind-numbing, muscle-atrophying boredom he found himself in. For men like Happy and a certain handful of his brothers, boredom was a dangerous condition to fall into as it could make a man reckless and, worst of all, soft. He had foreseen it happening eventually, which was why he had promised his support to Jax with the caveat that the SAMCRO Pres would not oppose him jumping charters or going nomad sometime down the road to legitimacy. What Happy had not foreseen, however, was it happening so soon.

Even though he knew that Jax was a long ways away from achieving his biker utopia, when Happy had accepted his top rocker so many years ago he had also made a pledge to back up his President and his Club—no matter what the cost to his personal gain or happiness. The Club _always_ came first, which was why Happy was staying put in Charming for now. Boredom aside, Jax was right about the direction the Club was heading in. Happy knew from experience that, in spite of their recent streak of good luck, it was only a matter of time before shit went south for SAMCRO again. It always did for MCs that got too greedy and started dabbling in the drug trade.

At his age, outlaws like Happy were usually dead or in prison, the place old bikers went to die. Alive, in his forties and living life as a free man made Happy an exception to the rule and he wanted to keep it that way, for himself as well as his brothers. Over the years, he had witnessed the downfall of what many had considered to be untouchable MCs who had gotten sloppy and greedy, a lethal combination 99.9% of the time. Many had been infiltrated by undercover Feds with hard-ons for organized crime. Infiltration usually led to raids which ended with clubs being disbanded, colors and identities stripped and destroyed, and their members thrown into prison for long term sentences. Some would never make it out of prison alive, while others would emerge as broken old men who had left the best years of their lives on the inside.

Violence and the chance of dying prematurely was a part of the Life and every one of his brothers had known that fact prior to accepting the Club's colors, including the SAMCRO Pres. That didn't mean, however, that Jax was wrong for wanting out of the gun business. In spite of being an outlaw, he had been brought up to value family and everyone, especially Opie and Happy, had seen changes in Jax as soon as his son had been born. Finding and reading JT's manuscript and discovering that his father had not wanted this life of violence for his own sons had cemented Jax's resolve to change it.

Jax Teller loved the Club too much to turn his back and walk away as Tara Knowles had so desperately wanted. However, the toll that living on the fringe of society was having on every other aspect of his life had proven too much to inflict on those guilty of only being associated with Club members. The aftershocks of Donna's murder, Gemma's rape, and Abel's kidnapping were further amplified by Jax almost dying in prison without getting the chance to fix the Club as he had promised himself he would. That was something Happy could understand, especially since Jax's new old lady was none other than his surrogate sister Marlowe Guthrie. It was clear that a move away from guns would benefit the Sons—Happy included, albeit begrudgingly—for the best.

Although Happy believed whole-heartedly in and lived by the credo tattooed around his neck— _I Live, I Die, I Kill for My Family_ —a part of him feared that living a legit life meant losing the true essence of who he was. After all, there was no sense in denying, especially to himself, that he was a cold-blooded killer. Since patching in at 23, Happy had amassed a total of 13 smiley face tattoos—not all of which were for Club-sanctioned hits either—and he hadn't earned his Unholy One patch by being a boy scout. Like with his tattooing, when it came to doing shit for the Club no one else had the stomach for, Happy Lowman was in a class by himself. Even other charters were known to farm out their dirty work to the Tacoma Killah and not all of it included murder-for-hire. As a matter of fact, Happy was well-known (and feared) for his creative take on torture.

However, in spite of feeling like a neutered dog as of late, it was the love he had for Marlowe that had been the deciding factor in Happy throwing his support behind Jax. With the Club newly-partnered with Unser Trucking, Phase One of Jax's bold new business plan was almost complete. Working with Wayne Unser over the last three months, the company's old fleet of trucks had been sold in order to make way for a fleet of new and previously-owned but gently used trucks. A natural born negotiator, Jax had contracted a number of independent truck drivers to increase their roster of employees and, in a move supported by a Club vote, appointed Kozik as "office manager" with Piney and Lyla Winston as his support staff.

Knowing Kozik as well as he did, Happy knew that his brother had been grateful for the new assignment. Although he had made significant progress now that his leg was fully healed, it would still be some time before Kozik was ready to go on extended runs without his leg giving him grief after a while. Instead, working with Piney and Lyla, he was learning the trucking business from Charming's former chief of police.

As a matter of fact, the shipment that Happy and his crew, which included Chibs, Filthy Phil, Miles and Ratboy, were currently protecting was for a new client secured by Kozik and Lyla. Dunwood Wholesale Electronics had been the victim of several hijackings over the last six months and were in danger of losing a number of accounts with major retailers if they couldn't make good on their delivery promises. Although Dunwood had been transporting their own cargo for years, Kozik had convinced them to outsource delivery to Unser Trucking by guaranteeing that with their added protection service, their shipments would no longer be bait for hijackers.

Now, as Happy watched Chibs hurriedly escort their driver from the diner, he turned and let loose a loud wolf whistle, a call that to the rest of the crew meant "get your ass in gear."

 _If all goes well, the rest of this run will be a piece of cake_ , Happy thought as he straddled his bike. _A big, fat boring piece of cake_.

* * *

_**Kirkland, Washington – Thursday, January 6, 2011** _

It was nearly dawn as the convoy that included a large semi and its escort of four Sons and a black cargo van manned by Ratboy made its way along Interstate 5. Having passed through Oregon and nearly all the way through Washington slightly ahead of schedule, Happy had to admit that Unser's driver, Don McPhee, knew what the fuck he was doing. In spite of viewing his company-mandated escort as more of an unnecessary burden than anything else, Don had made excellent time as he pushed his rig through the early morning hours at top speed.

At this rate, the odds of sleeping in his own bed tonight seemed to be in Happy's favor. With the sun starting to lighten the sky with an orange and blue hue, it would be full blown daylight soon. With only a couple of hours left to travel, it seemed they were destined to make it across the Canadian border to deliver their cargo safely and without mishap.

Unfortunately, not everything works out as it is seemingly destined to.

Later, after the dust had settled, Happy would comment to Chibs that their attackers had picked the perfect time to ambush them, leaving them both to wonder just how the convoy had ended up on their radar in the first place. Enveloped in semi-darkness, traffic was light at half-past five o'clock in the morning, making it the prime time to strike.

They had been flanking the semi i formation, with Chibs and Miles in the front, Happy and Phil in the back, and everyone followed by Ratboy in the cargo van. With enough distance between the bikes and the truck, at first glance it appeared as if the group wasn't travelling together. So when four identical and extremely high-powered black Honda Civics seemingly came out of nowhere and made an aggressive approach from behind, the SAA was pretty damn sure it wasn't just a bunch of teenagers out for an early morning joy ride. Checking his mirror and grimacing as the vehicles revved their engines and surged forward, Happy felt a sudden rush of adrenaline flood his veins.

 _Finally! Some fuckin' action_ , he thought with savage joy.

Although Happy had outgrown the craziness of his younger days when he had actively sought out opportunities to bust shit up, these last few months had been especially quiet and dull. With no active beefs with other crews on the horizon and business with the Cartel running smooth, the last time he got to flex his muscles was during the Club's attack on the Ghanezi brothers. Other than cutting loose with his Sig Sauer on the make-shift firing range he had set up behind the gun warehouse in order to keep his skills sharp, Happy hadn't had an opportunity to bust a cap in someone's ass in a good long while. However, though this appeared to be a ready-made opportunity to do just that, his President's counsel echoed in his head.

 _Hap, I'm counting on you to keep the peace, brother. If some shit_ _does_ _go down, the last thing I want is state troopers hauling your asses in for firing unregistered weapons on a fuckin' highway crowded with civilians. Brains before bullets_ , Jax had advised him soberly just as Happy and the crew were about to pull out of Charming.

Making a judgment call, Happy hit the speed dial on his prepay that would activate a special ring tone on Chibs' end, a signal that shit was about to get epic. With the lead car zooming forward to approach the front of the semi and a second car following suit, Happy raised his gloved hand in an authoritative wave directed at Filthy Phil on his right. Veering his ride away from behind the cargo hold and to the left of the semi directly behind the second car, the SAA watched as Phil followed his lead. Hoping that Don remembered his instructions to not slow down or stop under any circumstance if an attempt to hijack the shipment was made, Happy smiled in satisfaction as he watched the semi suddenly speed up instead.

"Shit!" he roared as he saw that the lead car—a custom-made piece of foreign shit—had used its powerful nitrous oxide-infused engines to easily insert itself behind Chibs and Miles. Now directly in front of the semi, it was attempting to impede the truck's progress. Suddenly, a figure dressed in black and wearing a ski-mask came out of sunroof holding what appeared to be some sort of harpoon-propelled weapon.

"Fuck me! What is this shit?" Feeling as if he had suddenly awoken to find himself in the middle of one of Juice's favorite hi-speed action movies, Happy refused to lose his shit. Instead, he kept his bike steady as he pulled his Glock from the holster under his kutte. Making sure there were no other cars on either side of the I-5, he took careful aim.

 _To hell with not firing my weapon_ , Happy thought grimly, trying to get a lock on the figure standing through the sunroof. The car directly in front of him and Phil, however, continued to weave back and forth in an effort to block Happy's line of fire.

Hearing gunfire, Happy grinned as Chibs and Miles fired at the occupants of the lead car. Figuring that they would take care of that asshole, Happy decided to set his sights on the next car. Suddenly, in a blink-you-missed-it hot as shit move, the second car passed underneath the carriage of the semi to exit on the other side.

"Shit no!" Happy shouted above the roar of the wind, determined not to let the speed demon get away from him.

Directing Phil to engage the two cars behind them and seeing that the Prospect in the cargo van was using its powerful V8 engine to ram the rear end of the last car, Happy veered around the side of the semi to come up directly behind the second car. Raising his Glock, and with a bestial snarl on his face, Happy aimed for the driver's head. At the last second, however, he changed his mind, taking a shot at the car's back tire instead. The tire exploded, the asphalt ripping it to shreds as the driver valiantly tried—and failed—to get the car under control again. Swerving wildly from left to right, the driver frantically jerked the steering wheel as the car came dangerously close to the semi's massive wheels.

Grinning in anticipation, Happy let out a war whoop of triumph as the car skidded to the side, hitting the highway's steel barrier before flipping over and into the air. Still maintaining his speed, Happy managed a look over his shoulder in time to see the car flip over several times before resting on its side on a heavily wooded embankment along the other side of the highway. The third car burned rubber as it came to a screeching halt, quickly spinning itself into the opposite direction in order to come to the aid of the disabled vehicle's occupants. Thanks to the combined efforts of Filthy Phil and Ratboy, the rear car spun out before landing in a ditch.

Speeding up with Phil and Ratboy following closely behind, Happy zeroed in on the truck only to discover that Chibs and Miles had managed to dispatch the lead car, forcing it off of the road and onto the exit ramp where it sped away. Pulling adjacent to the semi, Happy smirked as the driver rolled his window down in order to pump his fist at him in the air in triumph.

Tipping his chin up at Don with a sense of amusement and pride, Happy shoved his gun back into its holster and waved his brothers back into formation, resuming his position behind the truck. Maybe living a "legit" life as the Club's enforcer wouldn't be so dull after all, Happy pondered. Although he hated letting the would-be hijacking assholes go, they had lucked out due to the fact that Jax was counting on him to get this cargo to its destination on schedule.

 _But if their luck doesn't hold up, we'll cross paths again_ , Happy thought as he increased his speed. _And when we do, they'll learn the hard way that fuckin' around with SAMCRO is a horrible way to die._

* * *

_**Outskirts of Charming, CA – Friday, January 7, 2011** _

Dominic Torelli watched out of the corner of his eye as his big sister expertly navigated the Porsche down the I-22. Weaving effortlessly in and out of traffic, Nico pushed her dark brown hair away from her eyes as she smirked.

"I can feel your eyeballs on me, Dom," Nico started. "I won't get pulled over, I promise. I'm only going ten miles over the speed limit."

Dominic chuckled as he took off his sunglasses. "I'm not worried about your driving, Nicoletta—"

Nico rolled her eyes at the sound of her birth name. "Aw shit. Here we go," she started, her eyes firmly on the road as her beautifully manicured hands rested casually on the steering wheel at four and seven. "Not only are you starting to look like him, but you're starting to sound like Papa, too. What did I do now, _Dominic_?"

Dominic shook his head. "Nothin'. I've just been thinking that maybe it's better if we go with Plan B."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Nico replied, confused. "There is no Plan B, Dom."

"Yeah, well, there is now. Just drop me off about a mile from the garage and wait for my call _outside_ the city limits," Dominic commanded.

Barely able to control the smirk on her face, Nico was grateful she was wearing large, dark sunglasses as she cut loose with a massive eye roll at the sound of earnest authority in her baby brother's voice. "As your counselor, Dom, I have to tell you that Plan B is shit and I'm not doing it," Nico replied definitively. "You're not even carrying a weapon, so there's no way in hell I'm letting you face off with those bikers on your own."

"I'm not worried, Nico. According to the Intel I pulled together, Friday night is apparently party night down at the SOA Clubhouse," Dominic responded confidently. "I won't be in any danger with so many witnesses around."

Bemused, Nico shook her head. Dominic wasn't the only one that had pulled together some Intel and from what she had learned, these outlaw bikers were extremely dangerous and approaching them should not be taken lightly. "Only fools rush in, Dom," Nico advised. "And only soon-to-be dead fools rush in unarmed and alone. After the shit you and your crew _tried_ to pull off yesterday, do you really think they're going to let a little thing like a Clubhouse full of witnesses stop them from making an example out of you?" she argued. "It's bad enough not giving them a head's up about our 'visit' by calling first. You just might find yourself walking into a potential slaughter all by yourself and I won't let that happen."

Shaking his head, Dominic chuckled as he looked out the passenger window. "It's not like my chances are any better with you by my side, Nico."

"Bullshit," Nico retorted.

"It's not bullshit. What are you gonna do, whack 'em with that big brain of yours?" he teased as he turned his gaze on her again.

"Maybe," she replied snidely, "but not before dazzling them with my other assets first. I say we stick to the original plan because I did not literally squeeze myself into these leather pants just so I could play chauffeur tonight," Nico replied as she looked towards her brother.

Dominic quirked an eyebrow. Although dressing up and looking good was not out of the ordinary for his sister, her attire for the evening certainly was. Taking in the waves in her mid-back length hair and kohl-darkened eyes, Dominic realized that the leather pants weren't the only item of clothing she had squeezed herself into. Underneath a fitted dark denim jacket, Nico was wearing a matching leather bustier that looked in danger of popping a few buttons.

Running a hand over his shaved skull, Dominic was tempted to pull rank as the only male sibling and aborting their plans for the night. "Using yourself as bait is not a smart play, Nico."

"Bait?! What the fuck, Dom?!" Nico laughed. "I'm just dressing for the occasion. You said there would be a party at the Clubhouse tonight, right?"

"I sincerely doubt we'll get invited to party."

"Wanna bet? I look like I'm ready to party with a bunch of outlaw bikers," Nico smiled. "Let's just say that I'm going with Plan D-squared, as in this bustier makes _the girls_ look like double D's and I know that will go a long way in improving our chances of getting out alive. Trust me on this," she explained much to her brother's horror.

"Holy shit, Nico! You realize Pop will kill me if anything happens to you tonight, right?" Dominic asked bewildered by his sister's sudden transformation from Dr. Jekyll into Ms. Hyde.

Reaching over, Nico pinched Dominic's cheek. "Just like Ma would kill me if anything happened to her precious baby boy." She laughed as he playfully smacked her hand away. "Hey, you know it's true. She already has two other daughters who did the right thing by staying married and producing brats. You're her only son."

"You always make it sound like you're the spare we keep around for shits and giggles. You are a very important part of this family and you're very special, Nico, not just to me but to _everyone_. You do know that, don't you?" Dominic asked seriously, his brow creased with sincerity.

"Of course, I do," Nico replied and she believed it whole-heartedly. _The Family would fall apart without me_. "But you can't deny that Ma would have been a lot happier had I been born a boy," she challenged.

"That's only 'cause until you hit puberty you thought you were Papa's mini-me, always getting into shit and driving her crazy," Dominic replied, only partly teasing.

"It's all perspective, I guess. The way I see it, the only thing that partially redeemed me in her eyes for not being born a boy was giving birth to Tonio. Anyway," Nico tried diverting the conversation back to the issue at hand, "you suggesting I keep out of this shit really pisses me off, Dom, because sometimes, you're just like Ma. This wouldn't be an issue with Lucky or any of the other guys from your crew," she replied as she looked towards her brother.

"Maybe," Dominic admitted reluctantly, "but sometimes a man's better qualified for some shit by simply being a man. Lucky should be the one here tonight."

"Kind of hard to do with a broken pelvis, Dom," Nico said sarcastically. "Lucky should consider himself, a-hem, lucky that's all he ended up with after flipping his car," she smirked.

"That's not even funny, Nico," Dom said irritably. "Besides, he didn't do that shit alone. I'd love nothing more than to put the fucker responsible in traction himself."

"Which is probably another reason it's good that I'm here, to keep you from losing your shit," Nico retorted as she continued to weave in and out of traffic. "You can't blame the bikers for doing their job, little brother. And don't think for one minute that you've distracted me from that macho alpha male bullshit that just came out of your mouth. I don't need a pair of balls to handle shit."

" _I_ know that, but this is a man's world and you know that's how shit works in the Family, Nico," he said before reaching over and squeezing her hand. "I'm sure these bikers aren't any different, and I know you. You won't hesitate on setting them straight in that regard, which can make shit worse," Dominic said ruefully.

"After your little run in with the MC, I don't see how shit can get any worse," Nico said as she took the exit leading to Charming. "I hope Zio knows these bikers as well as he says he does and that they would be willing to accept a _mea culpa_ ," she said skeptically.

"If there's money to be made by keeping us alive, they'll take us up on our offer," Dominic said confidently. "Underneath the leather and grime, they're businessmen just like Pop and his associates."

"You hope." Nico shook her head as she headed towards Teller-Morrow Automotive Services, national headquarters for the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club.

 _And so do I_ , she thought.

Considering that Nico had other business her brother was unaware of that she might want to discuss with the Sons in the future, a positive outcome tonight was of the utmost importance.

* * *

Kozik was sitting on the picnic table outside the Clubhouse drinking a beer and watching as the parking lot started to fill up with the Friday night hang-arounds. It was about twenty minutes before sunset and most of his brothers were hovering close by, drinking and talking shit as they waited for Jax to call Church.

While the attempted hijacking had everyone who sat around the table more than just a little pissed off, it was Kozik who was the most irate about the situation. Although grateful that his brothers had been able to neutralize the threat, it had been a particularly hard blow to his ego that he hadn't been on hand to protect the shipment.

For the last few months, Kozik's primary job had been working with Wayne Unser in the revamping of the trucking business and he had worked exceptionally hard to line up new clients for Unser Trucking on a trial basis. Thanks to Happy's quick thinking and the experienced driver assigned to the haul, Dunwood Electronics had been impressed with the service they had provided and had given U-T several more shipments to handle over the next few months.

Although Dunwood had been impressed by their ability to thwart the attempted hijacking, shit like what happened in Washington couldn't be allowed to happen again. Kozik, along with Juice and Chibs, had spent most of the day trying to track down Intel on the would-be hijackers and learn how the shipment had been targeted in the first place. Since Jax had worked out the logistics of the haul using new routes himself, he was sure to want answers by the time they sat down at the table. Now, as Juice dragged his feet out of the Clubhouse and made his way towards Kozik, it was obvious by the look on his face that they wouldn't have good news to report.

"No luck?" Kozik asked after taking a deep swallow of his beer.

Juice shook his head as he jumped onto the table next to him. "The partial plate Ratboy got off one of the cars just wasn't enough. I got no hits. Nothing even close."

"Tha's not gonna sit well with Jax, brutha," Chibs chimed in.

"Not much else we can do without more information," Kozik replied. "During the last twenty-four hours, we have hit up every possible lead and shaken up all the usual suspects. There must be a new crew in the area who don't know who they're fuckin' with."

"What did Tacoma have to say?" Chibs asked Juice.

"Not much," Juice replied with a sigh. "According to their Intel officer, they're on pretty good terms with the crews operating in that area. No one's aware of any crew of hijackers fitting the description."

Kozik shook his head. "Souped up Japanese cages don't fit anyone's M.O. this far north. You find rice burners like that down in SoCal, between LA and San Diego on the drag circuit. Maybe it's some amateur crew looking for ways to finance their racing addiction."

Chibs shrugged his shoulders and nodded. "Make sense, brutha. They sure as shite didna return fire. I, meself, am not familiar with such passivity in the 'pros'."

Nodding in agreement, Kozik was about to continue thinking out loud when he heard an engine roar down the street and heading towards the garage. Putting his empty bottle down, he jumped off the picnic table as a powder blue Porsche 911 Turbo S pulled onto the lot.

"Not bad, for a cage," Kozik said admiringly. With Chibs and Juice falling in step behind him, Kozik headed to the car, stopping dead in his tracks as a petite, yet curvy woman with dark hair stepped out of the driver's side.

 _Hmm, even better_ , Kozik thought and upped the wattage of his smile.

"Hey," the woman smiled as she confidently approached Kozik on death-defying platform heels, her smoky blue eyes making contact with his. "I'm looking for your President."

Kozik took a long, leisurely and appreciative look at the beautiful young woman with pouty lips. "Judging by appearances, if you're here lookin' to party with the Pres, I'm afraid your outta luck. See, his ass is already spoken for, but mine's completely free and available, love," he advised with cocky smile.

"I'm sure you are," she smiled back flirtatiously, "but I'm a business before pleasure-type of woman."

With a raised eyebrow, Kozik ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "So tell me what's your business so we can get on with the pleasure."

"I'm Nico Torelli," she started, "and I represent the crew that tried to take down the cargo your Club was protecting early yesterday morning."

"Holy shit!" Juice uttered under his breath as Chibs let out a low chuckle. Kozik, however, was suddenly looking at the young woman with hard, blazingly angry eyes.

"Okay, _Nico Torelli_. Now I know who you are," Kozik started. "Still don't know what the fuck you're doing here," he replied, all pretense of being nice and flirty wiped clean from his countenance.

A slight breeze kicked up, forcing Nico to push hair away from her face. "That part is a little more complicated, but before I get to it, you should know I'm not alone." She nodded her head towards the Porsche with the dark tinted windows. Suddenly, the passenger side door opened and out stepped a tall and well-muscled man wearing a leather jacket over a tight-fitting black t-shirt, black jeans, and sunglasses. "This is my brother Dominic Torelli," Nico said as she wrapped her arm around Dominic's bicep. "And we're here to make amends."

* * *

 **Acknowledgment** **: I want to thank** **bobbysidjit** **for once again coming through for me and creating the beautiful cover art for this story. Just when I think she can't get any better, she out does herself. Thanks, gurl. You're the best!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Friday, January 7, 2011** _

As was usually the case for as far back as he could remember, Dominic Torelli was in complete and utter awe of his big sister. Instead of having all types of automatic weapons pointed at their heads after claiming responsibility for the attempted hijacking of a truck under their protection, the outlaw MC known as SAMCRO had opened the door to their Clubhouse and invited the Torelli siblings in for a drink.

_A fuckin' drink!_

Dominic wasn't blind, however. Although Nico was well-spoken and intelligent, it wasn't an appreciation for her smarts that had kept them breathing this long. Nico was a beautiful woman and even though she wasn't big in height, she was big in personality. Not only was she personable, but a slight air of danger always seemed to surround her that men such as these usually found themselves drawn to. Maybe it was those eyes of hers, just one of the many traits she had inherited from their father. Always warm and inviting, Nico could be quite intimidating when she flashed cold, dark blue eyes in your direction.

Whatever it was that Nico had, it was something these outlaw bikers made no effort to hide their admiration for, but even Dominic knew that didn't mean they were out of the woods yet.

Ushered inside by the trio that had greeted them in the parking lot, the patch who had introduced himself as Kozik charged the rat-faced young man with greasy hair behind the bar with serving up whatever Nico and Dominic wanted to drink. He then demanded that anyone not wearing a kutte vacate the Clubhouse immediately. Ordering a shot of Jack with a beer chaser, Nico settled herself onto a bar stool to wait. From his corner of the bar, Dominic gulped down half of his beer as he watched the blond spiky-haired biker disappear into a room he had referred to as the "Chapel". Quickly downing her shot, Nico picked up her beer bottle just as a curly-haired biker with a pair of crazy-looking blue eyes slipped in between the siblings.

With his eyes nailed onto the cleavage exposed by her unbuttoned denim jacket, Nico watched as he hungrily ran his tongue over dry lips. Taking a sip from her beer, Nico put the bottle down on the bar with just enough force to snap the patch out of his breast-induced trance.

"Did ya lose something down my shirt, sport?" Nico asked cheekily.

Dominic took another gulp from his beer and pretended he couldn't hear what was going on right next to him. Nico didn't take kindly to her little brother automatically jumping to the rescue. He would let her handle the situation until Dominic was sure it was about to get out of hand. With Nico usually handling her own shit effectively, however, his interference was rarely ever required.

"Nah, doll," the patch drawled. "I'm just imagining my hard cock in between those perfect tits of yours." He flashed a surprisingly engaging grin. "I'm Tig, by the way," he announced.

Tig had no idea who the hot little bitch was, but he had seen her enter the Clubhouse with Kozik. With a plump ass encased in tight leather and dark sable-colored hair falling over her shoulders in soft, loose curls, she could be just another biker groupie. If he was lucky, however, she'd turn out to be a tried and true hang-around—a croweater, which made her fair game.

"Well, uh Tig, I have to warn you. I usually have trouble picturing shit that has no chance of ever happening," Nico started, "so I'm not really getting the visual that you have so vividly painted for me. Sorry."

Tig was looking at her with a knitted brow. Looking into what could only be described as crazy eyes, Nico said a quick prayer in hopes that she hadn't just earned herself a backhand for mouthing off to the wrong biker. But soon, the older man's features softened and he laughed heartily.

"Ah, shit! I get it." Tig exclaimed with a smile. Grabbing her beer, he took a large sip, wiping his mouth with the back of a multi-ringed hand before he leaned into her. "Hey, listen, doll. If shit don't work out between you and Koz, you should really consider giving me—tall, dark and hung like a fuckin' horse—a shot. I'm just saying." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't make any promises," Nico signaled the bartender to pour her another shot, "but I will keep the offer in mind."

"Yeah, you do that," Tig replied and bit his lip as he stared down into her cleavage again. "I bet you taste like peaches," he said and smacked his lips, making "mmm-mmm" noises as if he had just tasted the sweet and juicy fruit before walking away.

"Told ya," Dominic said, closing the large gap between himself and his sister before anyone else decided to test their luck with Nico. "Bait. You're dressed like fuckin' bait."

Nico rolled her eyes. "Yeah, so what? It's not like this is the first biker bar I've ever been hit on in," she teased, earning a surprised glare from her brother. "You need to relax, Dom. You look tense and I'm reading all this anxiety coming off of you. If they pick up on it, they won't trust us," she murmured quietly.

"I think the fact that we tried jacking them takes care of the trust issue, don't you?" Dominic argued.

"Presently, yes, but I'm here to make things right. _You_ look like you're here to plant a bomb. Chill the fuck out, that's all I'm saying. It's not like you haven't dealt with bigger and badder before," Nico advised.

"Oh, I have, just not while babysitting my bratty sister," Dominic teased.

"Yeah, fuck you, too, Dom," Nico smiled as she took a sip of her whiskey.

Just then, the Chapel doors opened. A tall, blond and extremely good-looking man with a "President" patch on his kutte was standing in the doorway staring straight at Dominic and Nico. Taking a deep drag from the cigarette he was holding, the man both brother and sister recognized as Jax Teller stepped into the main room. He was followed by a giant of a man with long auburn hair sporting a "V. President" patch and a shorter, bushy-haired man whose kutte was barely big enough to cover the serious beer baby gut he was rocking.

But it was the man that followed them all into the room that caused Nico's breath to catch in her throat.

 _It's him_ , Nico thought as her eyes centered on the intimately familiar tan and lean face of the man with the clean-shaven and tattooed head _. And he apparently remembers me too_ , she inwardly smiled with some satisfaction as she saw his dark eyes narrow as they focused on her like laser beams.

Telling herself to get a grip, Nico felt suddenly disgruntled with herself and the sense of relief that had bubbled to the surface thanks to the light of recognition that had flashed in his eyes. After all, Nico had hoped that she too had made a lasting impression on the man and hadn't been the only one indelibly affected by their one lust-driven night together.

* * *

To say that Happy Lowman had been taken by surprise would have been grossly understating the situation. It was more along the lines of getting knocked on his ass, complete with little birds and stars circling his head.

When Kozik had entered the Chapel to advise that the crew responsible for the attempted hijacking were at the moment sitting in the Clubhouse, Happy quickly started going through the inventory of his mind for good, out of the way places to dump the bodies. Fully expecting to find a ragtag bunch of inbred redneck assholes who had obviously shown up in Charming on a dare, walking out and seeing Tiny prettily perched on a bar stool had completely floored him. Not that anyone would be able to tell by the menacing look on his face.

The last time Happy had laid eyes on her had been during the previous summer at the Indian Hills Clubhouse. It had been a truly intense night of no-holds barred fuckin', no doubt. But after a missed opportunity to hook up with her once again a couple of months later, Happy had dismissed their encounter as a one-off. As he boldly eyed her, however, it became clear to Happy that Tiny wasn't at all surprised to see him, judging by the knowing blue eyes that languidly ran up and down the length of his body.

 _And tonight she's not looking like no high-end piece of ass either_ ,Happy thought, noting the tight leather pants that molded over her generous curves and bustier that encased her perfectly round and beautiful tits. _Damn!_ _I've missed those home grown bad boys too_ , the errant thought ran through his mind as he felt his cock twitch. _Like a lot_.

Not sure of how or why the miniature prima donna had gotten mixed up in the hijacking shit fest, Happy decided to keep his counsel and let the SAMCRO Pres run point. Without acknowledging her presence, Happy stood quietly to Jax's right, cocking his head in interest as off to the side he watched Clay Morrow murmuring quietly into his prepay before snapping the phone shut.

"You walking heavy?" Jax asked as he grabbed a seat at one of the tables and sat down.

"No," Dominic replied. "We came to make peace, so we're both unarmed."

Jax nodded, leaning back casually in his chair, one long, denim-clad leg stretched out. "I appreciate that, but you do understand that for your safety as well as our own, we're gonna have to pat you down." The SAMCRO President motioned to Chibs, who was standing closest to Dominic with Tig quickly volunteering to search Nico.

"Hey, hey," Dominic started protesting as Tig grabbed his sister's arm, ready to yank her off the stool. "I don't mind a pat down, but can you please give the lady a little courtesy?"

Seeing a hard glint ignite in Jax's eyes as if he were trying to decide who to kill first, Nico jumped off the stool. "I don't mind a pat down either. I've got nothing to hide." Turning around, she placed her hands on the bar top and spread her legs.

Gleefully rubbing his hands together, Tig was about to reach for her again when Jax motioned for him to step back. "Let Hap do it," he ordered, much to Tig's displeasure.

"Really, Pres?" Tig protested petulantly. "What kind of cock-blocking shit is that?"

"Cock-blocking?" Jax raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Bro, I need someone to pat her down, not fuck her up against the bar," he said as Happy stepped forward and pushed Tig to the side.

"I got this," Happy flashed Tig a grim look.

In spite of what the brother/sister duo were claiming responsibility for, Happy knew that out of the respect he had for women, Jax was not about to subject the beauty wrapped in leather to a mauling bordering on sexual assault. Approaching her as he would any pat down, Happy started with her arms, running his hands over what he could feel through the denim jacket were her familiar, well-toned arms. Trailing down to her sides, he patted the pockets of her jacket before reaching underneath and patting the sides and back of her bustier.

"I think you missed a spot," Nico whispered teasingly as Happy by-passed the front of her top, his hands falling to her slim waist.

"I'm giving you a pass since we both know it's near impossible to wedge anything in between those beauties—unless, of course, it's my cock," he replied in a low growl.

Nico smirked as Happy continued patting the front, side, and back of her leather pants. "What is it with you boys and titty-fucking?"

"I only know me and I know I just hate letting anything go to waste," Happy leaned close to Nico's ear and whispered. "Just don't make me regret giving you that pass— _Tiny_ ," he said, sending shivers down her spine. Crouching down behind her, Happy ran his hands down the outside and around her legs and finally between her thighs. "Clean," he declared as he straightened up, internally ordering his dick to stand the fuck down.

"Yup, clean," Chibs agreed after searching Dominic.

"Take a seat," Jax ordered, gesturing towards the chairs opposite him at the table. Doing as they were told, the pair patiently waited for their chance to speak. "I hear you two are related, brother and sister."

Dominic nodded. "Dom and Nico Torelli."

"Torelli, huh?" Clay interrupted as he approached the trio and pulled out a chair to sit down, uninvited. Taking a puff of his cigar, he continued, "Brooklyn Johnny T your old man?"

"Yes, _Gianni_ Torelli from Reno is our father," Nico replied.

"So if Brooklyn Johnny's your old man," Clay smiled, "I'm assuming you must know who Jimmy Caccuza is."

"He's our uncle," Dominic replied, folding his arms across his powerful chest.

"That's right!" Clay declared triumphantly. "So just imagine my surprise when I realized that the niece and nephew of a long-time friend and business associate of mine tried to hijack a cargo my Club was being paid handsomely to protect," he stated. "Needless to say, I am very surprised indeed and, like my brothers here, none too happy."

"That's why we're here," Dominic started. "We had no idea the Sons were running protection on that shipment."

"We run protection on _all_ Unser Trucking cargo," Jax replied sternly.

"He knows that, _now_ ," Nico chimed in just as strongly. "What he didn't know before was that this time around, Dunwood had outsourced transport of their cargo to an independent contractor, something they had _never_ done before. Had Dom known that the trucking company they were using had ties to the Sons, he wouldn't have been there."

Jax turned a hard look on Nico. "And just how did he know to be there in the first place? It was a last-minute job for us and I had strategically planned that route myself less than twenty-four hours before."

Dominic licked his lips as he gave Nico a sideways glance. He was willing to make amends, but divulging trade secrets was not a part of the plan. Looking over at her brother, Nico arched an eyebrow as if to say they were waiting for him to speak. Dominic replied by giving her a slight shake of his bald head.

Seeing Jax's jaw clench and his nostrils flare as the rest of his crew shifted on their feet—in preparation for what, she didn't care to find out—Nico let out an exasperated puff of air and glared at Dominic. "Tell him . . . _now_ ," she ordered with authority that Happy noted quizzically Dominic was unwilling to challenge.

"Most of the dockworkers at the port in San Francisco are on the Torelli payroll," Dominic started explaining, albeit hesitantly. "My contact knows to keep an eye out for high-end cargo for me. When it comes in, he places a GPS-enabled tracking device underneath the rig while it's being loaded."

Jax turned to look at his VP and SAA with a raised eyebrow. "Smart."

"Meh," Opie shrugged his massive shoulders, unimpressed. "You would've figured it out eventually."

"Anyway," Dominic spoke up, bringing Jax's attention back to the table. "The point is, I didn't know the cargo was being protected by armed bikers and my intention was never to start shit with the Sons. As it is, I've got one man laid up in a hospital with a broken pelvis after one of your guys shot out his tire and for what?"

"I knew it, brutha," Chibs guffawed as he slapped a hand on Happy's shoulder. "You're a crack shot and I knew you wouldna let the bastard get off easy."

Happy watched as Dominic's eyes narrowed. "So you're the one responsible for what happened to Lucky," he said tightly.

"That's right," Happy said with a shit-eating grin. "And your boy might want to consider changing his name, although he is 'lucky' he didn't end up with a bullet in the head instead."

"I think you got that backwards," Dominic started darkly. "You should consider yourselves the lucky ones that the safety of my crew always comes first. Otherwise, shit might not have gone so easily your way."

Happy and Chibs eyed each other incredulously before bursting into raucous laughter.

"Hey, Torelli. Were you in the car that flipped too 'cause maybe you hit your head and forgot who chased who away," Tig called out as the main room roared with laughter.

Feeling her gears shift into big sister mode, Nico didn't take kindly to anyone running her brother down, not even a clan of probably well-armed and murderous outlaw bikers. For a brief moment, she forgot the reason they were there in the first place as jumping to her brother's defense was second nature to her by now.

"Chased away? Not so difficult to do when you're brandishing automatic weapons on a commuter highway," she stated adamantly with a smug look on her face. "Dom and his crew are pros. He's done dozens of these take-downs before, without ever needing to fire a weapon. The only times he has ever backed down from a hijacking was when his crew was in danger, like he did yesterday."

"Were you there, driving one of those cages?" Jax suddenly asked, intrigued by the outspoken young woman.

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "Making shit fall off a truck is not how I earn my keep. That doesn't mean, however, that I don't know my brother and what he's capable of. Dom made the right call on behalf of his crew by backing down, but if he really wanted that cargo, he would have taken that cargo."

Clay chuckled. "That's a bold statement, little girl."

"I'm not boasting," Nico replied sincerely. "It's what Dom does and he's good at it."

"Just good?" Jax asked, playing along.

Nico looked him straight in the eye. "The best."

"So you work for your old man?" Bobby asked Dominic directly.

" _I_ work for our father," Nico interjected tersely. "Dom only recently moved his crew up north in order to be closer to the family, which is why he had no idea whose toes he was stepping on."

Jax shook his head. "Ignorance is no excuse, darlin'. He should have vetted the situation before jumping in feet first, _especially_ in foreign territory."

"I got one better," Opie opened his mouth to chime in. "Why didn't Uncle Jimmy clue you in _before_ you went around pissing off his friends?"

"That's a good point, son. I mean, the Caccuza crew and the Sons have a relationship that goes back decades," Clay advised. "I think it's fair to say that not only does Jimmy know that SAMCRO runs protection for Unser Trucking, but that the area you hit last night falls into our territory as well. I assume he advised you that doing business in our neck of the woods comes with a price, right?"

"He did," Dominic concurred. "And if it makes a difference, he wasn't at all happy with me about yesterday."

"He was livid, actually," Nico clarified. "That's why we're here, because he sent us to take responsibility and make amends."

"What kind of amends?" Jax asked.

"Well, in order to conduct our business in NorCal and the Pacific Northwest, I'm offering to pay the Club our monthly vig upfront, up to a year in advance," Dominic offered.

"Keep talking," Jax retorted, seemingly not impressed. "That's business. I'm still waiting for the part where you start taking responsibility and making amends," he smirked.

Dominic flashed his sister with an exasperated look. "In addition," Nico continued, "Dom is offering the Sons a percentage of his profits for the next six months."

Surprised, Clay puffed on his cigar thoughtfully before nodding his head in askance at Jax. Ignoring Clay, Jax tipped his chin at Dominic. "Black market business must be booming," he said.

"He's doing all right," Nico replied instead.

Briefly giving Nico a sideways glance without turning his head, Jax refocused his attention on Dominic. "What percentage are we talking about?"

"Two points," Nico interjected once again.

Raising his eyebrows, Jax smirked as he looked at Dominic who was sitting quietly. Apparently, he had no problem with letting his sister do the talking. "Twenty," he shot back.

Nico almost swallowed her tongue. Even though Jimmy had said keep haggling to a minimum out of respect for his long-standing connection with SAMCRO, he also said the bikers would be reasonable in what they asked for. Twenty percent was not reasonable. Dominic had told her to start with five, advice she had ignored, and accept the second offer they made, but Nico was determined to get her brother his money's worth.

"Five," she countered.

"Darlin', we ain't negotiating shit until you move a little north of the single digits. Otherwise, you're just wasting good air," Jax declared with a wickedly boyish smile. "But since you did go up, I'll go down for ya. Eighteen."

Seeing Dominic opening his mouth to accept, Nico continued, "How about we go half that, huh?" She smiled coyly at Jax, who returned her smile with a long, lingering look at her cleavage meant to rattle her confidence before shaking his head.

"Sixteen," Jax said. Anything over ten percent was gravy for the Club, especially since they didn't have to earn it, so Jax had no problem playing along with the clearly self-confident young woman.

"Ten."

"I'll give you this much, darlin', you've got a nice pair there and I'm not just talking about the set you're carrying above the waistline," Jax declared. "Fourteen."

"Gold-plated," Nico replied cheekily. "Twelve."

"Thirteen." Jax watched as she stared him down and then shrugged.

"Done," she replied and held out a slim hand.

Reaching across the table, Jax took it in his and gripped it firmly before reaching over to shake Dominic's hand. "I think this calls for a drink, don't you?" he offered.

"Absolutely," Nico smiled. "Negotiating is thirsty work."

* * *

With dusk long gone, night had fallen on the SOA Clubhouse and, as was usually the case on a Friday night, the party was in full swing.

For at least one of the two visiting outsiders, however, the antics on display by some of the party-goers were certainly an eye-opening experience. But Nico couldn't really fault her little brother for feeling, as well as looking, painfully out of place. After all, he wasn't the sibling who had become more or less accustomed to partying with hardcore outlaw bikers on the regular.

After separating from her now ex-husband, Nico had taken on gambling as a hobby in an effort to keep from working herself to death. Like her father, who had taught her everything she knew about cards, Nico had a knack for poker in particular. With her family owning several casinos as well as illicit gambling dens in and around Reno, it wasn't easy indulging in her newly-acquired vice without getting recognized everywhere she went.

Her search for anonymity had led her to Indian Hills. Dropping tens of thousands of dollars at a time at Jury's place was a small price to pay for the "me time" she was free to enjoy without the pressure of being Nico Torelli. As far as anyone knew, she was just a bored housewife with too much time and money on her hands. Considering that she rarely lost and that most nights she preferred just sitting at the bar shooting the shit with Jury anyway, it dawned on Nico that it wasn't the gambling she was addicted to. It was the thought of living life as someone else, if only for a little while, that kept her coming back.

That and the totally hot biker that had given her the first real fucking of her life!

 _Happy Lowman_. Nico couldn't even think his name without her nether region springing to life.

"Shit!" Dominic's sudden exclamation prevented Nico from letting her thoughts veer further into X-rated territory. "I heard bikers were a wild bunch, but damn," he said with a grin as he watched two shirtless men bare-knuckle fighting in the ring outside the Clubhouse on this slightly chilly NorCal winter night. He and Nico found themselves surrounded by a sea of kuttes as wild, semi-naked women heartily cheered the fighters on. "I don't think I'm old enough for this shit."

"It is something, isn't it?" Nico replied as she daintily sipped her long neck bottle of beer, avidly watching the grappling hard bodies gleaming with sweat.

 _Definitely a lot cruder and wilder than Jury's place,_ she thought with some amusement.

"Fifty bucks says the one with the Mohawk KO's the other guy," Nico wagered, nudging her brother in the ribs. Not five seconds after the words left her mouth, the well-developed "other guy" covered in tats decided to plow Mohawk's brick-like abs with determination. Throwing first a left, then a right and then another left, he grinned maniacally as his opponent stumbled back several steps from the impact.

"I wouldn't take it, if I was you," a gravelly-toned voice advised from somewhere behind the Torelli siblings, sending a wicked shiver down Nico's spine. "Don't let the Mohawk fool you. Our village idiot has been working on his game lately and, as I'm starting to realize, smaller doesn't always mean weaker," Happy directed at Nico as she and Dominic turned to face him.

Dominic grimaced as his features darkened dangerously. "Thanks for the unsolicited advice. If it's all the same to you, I think I'm gonna take the bet," he retorted irritably. "His reach is too short and he's sluggish on his feet. All the other guy has to do is land one solid punch and Mohawk will end up flat on his ass wondering how the fuck he got there."

Nico rolled her eyes as the two men flexed egos at each other. She had been waiting all evening for the SAMCRO SAA to make his move. Now, it seemed that her little brother was unwittingly determined to wind his ass up and spoil shit for her.

Apparently, playing it cool all night with a man like Happy was not the way to go. If memory served—and she knew that it did—he had been more responsive the night they had met in Indian Hills because she had been aggressive and assertive, displaying very little to no shame in letting him know exactly what she wanted from him. They had shared an instant, no-bullshit connection that had led to the best sex of her life and she had spent the next several months hoping for a repeat performance should they ever cross paths again. However, not one of those hotly-anticipated scenarios ever included having her little brother glued to her side as the self-appointed protector of her non-existent virtue.

After months of steamy solo sessions as she thought about Happy and his glorious body fucking her within an inch of her life, Nico had been thrown for a momentary loop when she had come face to face with him earlier that night. His dangerously handsome face had been set in granite, betraying very little when he had walked into the room and spotted her sitting at the bar. For a fleeting moment, Nico prepared herself for the possibility that she had been nothing more than a nameless and faceless pussy he had taken his pleasure with nearly five months and two weeks ago. Although she had managed to convince herself that she had seen a spark of recognition in his eyes, with a man as closed off and gruff as Happy, a girl could never really be quite sure.

It wasn't until he had called her Tiny during the pat down that her lady parts had started blooming once again in his presence. _He definitely remembers_ , Nico had thought with an internal grin _._

The delicious thrill she had felt at the recognition had almost been enough for her to forgive him for not being around when she had "unexpectedly" turned up at Jury's to unwind. Although she had still managed to have herself a good time playing poker and alleviating the Sheriff of Douglas County of a shit load of money, it really hadn't been the kind of action she had been hoping to find.

Flash forward to the day before and the last thing Nico had expected when Uncle Jimmy had called was that she would find herself in California putting out a potential fire with the Sons of Anarchy. Having learned from Jury that Happy's home charter was in Charming, Nico knew that the chances of running into him were in her favor. However, after having spent most of the day doing research and making phone calls regarding SAMCRO and their President Jax Teller, Nico quickly came to realize that there were other potential benefits to be had with an association with the Club, none of which she had discussed with her brother. If she had analyzed the Intel she had gathered correctly, Nico hoped that she had made the right impression on the Club's President.

With the botched hijacking fire extinguished, it was starting to look like her peace-making abilities might still come in handy as Dominic and Happy seemed one or two pointed barbs away from getting into some shit that would require fists to fly. About to open her mouth in an effort to control the situation, Nico heard a loud thump and the sudden roar of the crowd. Turning her attention back to the ring, she wasn't surprised at all to see the huge patch splayed out across the mat as Mohawk pranced around the ring with his arms up in the air in victory.

"Looks like it was a sucker bet after all, Dom," Nico laughed as her brother shook his head in embarrassed disbelief. "Tell you what. Take a long hike on your way to getting me another beer and we'll call it even," she offered, rolling her eyes as Dominic eyed her suspiciously.

"Letting him off the hook won't teach him to listen to his betters," Happy goaded with a smirk.

Dominic huffed as he reached for his wallet. "I pay my debts," he said, pulling a crisp fifty dollar bill from his wallet and slamming it into Nico's hand. "And for the record, I have yet to come across any betters in this dump, _old man_ ," Dominic tossed off as he turned towards the Clubhouse. "I'll be right back," he said, a slight edge of warning in his tone as he eyed the biker.

"Take your time," Happy drawled. "I'll make sure your sister gets taken care of _real_ good."

Nico shook her head as she avoided the sharp look Dominic was aiming in her direction before he disappeared through the doorway. "Was that really necessary?"

"What?" Happy almost growled. "It was taking you long enough to ditch his ass. I just thought I'd help you along."

"Why would I want to ditch my brother?" Nico asked, her eyes wide with an innocence Happy knew first hand she did not possess.

"C'mon, girlie. You really need me to spell it out for you?" Happy said arrogantly, stepping into Nico's personal space and forcing her to raise her chin in order to look him in the eyes as he towered over her.

"I don't think I know what you're talking about," Nico bluffed. "The only reason I came to Charming was to support my brother during his discussions with your President."

"Don't you mean handle his shit for him?" Happy asked smugly. "What? Is he the baby of the family, used to stepping aside and letting his big sis do all the talking for him?"

Crossing her arms over her ample chest, Nico felt her ire suddenly rising. "You don't know shit about my family," she said challengingly.

"Maybe," Happy shrugged his shoulders, "but I know all I need to know about your brother. It was his crew that stirred shit up yesterday, yet he let you clean it up."

"Dom can handle anything he needs to," Nico stated adamantly. "It's my job to fix whatever needs fixing."

"You sure about that, tiny bitch?" Happy said quietly and smirked as he saw her blue eyes flash.

"Five foot three is _not_ tiny," she muttered.

"It is to me," Happy retorted. "I'm nearly a foot taller than you."

"Not tonight you're not," Nico said, kicking up a well shod 5-inch heel.

"I sure was last summer," he said silkily. "Or did you forget?" He watched with grim satisfaction as, despite the noise of the crowd, he heard her swallow the lump in her throat.

_I didn't forget shit._

"I don't recall," she lied, slightly breathless.

"I can _remind_ you."

Feeling a pool of moist heat forming at the base of her thighs, Nico ordered herself to get a grip just as she decided to give in. Opening her mouth to tell him to name the time and place—all the while hoping he had place nearby—she nearly screamed in frustration when Dominic picked up her hand and slapped a beer in it.

"Drink up, Nico," Dominic said as he warily eyed Happy after finding the biker standing just a little too close to his sister. "It's been great and all," he offered the SAA a totally insincere grin, "but we gotta head back to Reno tonight."

Nico quirked an arched eyebrow at Dominic. "The plan was to head back tomorrow," she countered.

"It's Pop," Dominic said noncommittally. "We gotta roll _now_."

Nico's expression didn't change an iota as she allowed her eyes to fasten onto ones that were as dark as pitch. "It was nice chatting with you," she said to Happy with an easy smile before tipping the beer back. Taking a deep swallow, she handed it over to him as his fingers grazed across hers. Nico bit her bottom lip as Happy directed a barely perceptible wink in her direction before bringing the bottle up to his own lips.

"Let's go!" Dominic said gruffly as he gestured impatiently for Nico to follow him into the parking lot.

"Please let Jax know we'll be in touch soon regarding the vig," she said before turning to cut through the crowd to get to her car.

"Sure thing, _Tiny_ ," Happy called out.

"What the fuck did he just call you?" Dominic asked with a frown as he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Never you mind," Nico said, the sexy biker forgotten for the moment as she focused on what she feared was yet another shit storm brewing on the horizon. Pulling open her door she slid into the driver's seat. "Strap in, little brother," she ordered. "This is going to be one hell of a ride."

Pulling out of the parking, Nico took one last long look in her rearview mirror to see Happy rooted to spot she had left him in as he watched her with an intensity she could almost feel.

 _Don't you worry, tiger. We'll be seeing each other again real soon_ , Nico smiled to herself. _And next time, no one will stop shit from happening._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Wednesday, January 19, 2011** _

Kozik shook his head and rolled his eyes as he heard the clang-clanging of a wrench as it hit the very expensive engine of the Mack truck he had bought to T-M for service.

"Geez, Tig! What the fuck are you doin'?" Kozik finally exclaimed exasperated. Stepping up to the cab of the truck, he reached under the hood and grabbed the torque wrench out of Tig's hand. "I bought her in 'cause she was leakin' transmission fluid. Keep wailing on her like that and we're gonna have to rebuild the fuckin' engine!"

"Hey!" Tig pulled himself out from under the hood and jabbed at Kozik's kutte with grease-stained fingers. "Don't tell me how to do my job."

"Hey! Watch the leather, douchebag!" Kozik slapped his hand away.

"Then don't be grabbing shit outta my hand!" Tig snapped as he did just that and snatched the wrench back from Kozik.

"Then stop acting like a big ape, you moron!" Kozik argued.

Tig glared at his brother as he threw the wrench onto a worktable and started wiping his hands with the rag hanging from the belt of his work pants. "That's the thanks I get for tryin' to help you out, shit head? You call me names? If anyone's a knuckle-dragger around here, it's you."

"You know, you're right," Kozik replied half-heartedly. "You're too stupid to be an ape 'cause at least chimps _know_ how to use fuckin' tools."

Tig threw his dirty rag at Kozik, hitting him in the face. "Okay, smart guy. You fix the damn truck then," he said stepping aside as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his T-M work shirt. "I know where the leak's comin' from, but let's see how long it takes you to find it."

"Fine!" Kozik declared. "If you want something done right, it's always better to do it yourself anyways," he said as he removed his kutte and hung it with great care on a hook on the opposite side of the bay. Striding back towards the truck as he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, Kozik heard Tig let out a high-pitched wolf whistle.

"Well, looky-looky here," Tig said lecherously, causing Kozik to sidestep the truck, ending up at his brother's side at the bay entrance. "Look whose perky ass has finally found her way back to the lot to take me up on my offer."

Kozik scoffed as he caught sight of the familiar powder blue Porsche as it roared its way into the parking lot. "If anything, she's here for me, asshole," he stated with a confidence that matched Tig's. "Not only is the broad smart, but she seemed relatively sane too, something that ain't in your wheelhouse, brother."

"What's in my wheelhouse is a foot long dick," Tig retorted as he grabbed a handful of his crotch, "which I know will work on her just fine." Turning away from Kozik, Tig sauntered his way across the lot.

"This is some shit I gotta see," Kozik muttered as he quickly followed Tig.

It had been several weeks since the Torelli siblings had blown their way in and out of Charming. Delivering the vig that Dominic Torelli owed the Sons seemed like a chore more in line for a grunt to handle. For that reason, Kozik found it somewhat strange that the undeniably sexier and more attractive Torelli sibling would drive more than four hours from Reno just to deliver it.

 _Maybe Tiggy's right and she's back looking to hook up with a biker_ , he surmised, but quickly revised his opinion as Nico exited her car.

"Nah, she ain't dressed for no damn booty call," Kozik muttered regretfully under his breath, cutting loose with a quiet whistle as he took her in.

Instead of a sexy figuring-hugging outfit of black leather, Nico Torelli was dressed in a red pantsuit and a white blouse with a cowl neckline made of what looked like silk to Kozik's untrained eye. Towering on six-inch black heels with red soles and swinging a leather handbag, the woman's glossy dark brown hair shimmered in the winter sun as it flowed in waves over the shoulders of an off-white, knee-length light wool coat.

 _Looks like she's all business today_ , Kozik thought to himself and sped up to catch Tig in order to stop him from saying something totally inappropriate.

_Too fuckin' late!_

Tig leaned a strong arm on the car top, stepping right into Nico's personal space, and eyed her up and down with a sexy smirk. "Hiya, doll face. If you're here to play domineering boss and submissive secretary, I just want you to know that I am _all_ about that shit."

Kozik watched as Nico cocked her head back to eye his brother. "Uh, me as a submissive _anything_ is so totally not my thing. Now, a dominatrix whipping her slave into a blubbering pool of sexual frenzy at her well-heeled feet," she grinned fiercely, " _that's_ more up my alley."

"Fuck yeah, babe!" Tig simultaneously hooted and drooled. "I got a room in the Clubhouse, some chains, a few toys and plenty of lube too—" he started, only to be unceremoniously shoved to the side by Kozik.

"Jesus, asshole! Put the snake back in your pants. I don't think 'Uncle Jimmy' would appreciate you talkin' to his niece like that," Kozik chided and turned to offer Nico an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. He don't get out much."

"I gathered as much," Nico said drolly.

Kozik grinned and couldn't keep himself from eyeing the attractive brunette up and down before airbrushing the arm of her coat. "Is that shit cashmere?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Cashmere? What the fuck is cashmere?" Tig asked and Kozik watched as Nico bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from laughing out loud.

"It's a type of wool, asshole," Kozik replied. "Am I right?" he asked Nico.

"Yes, you are, on both counts," Nico said with a smile. "You are a very discerning man, Kozik."

"Hear that Tiggy? _I'm_ discerning," he preened.

"What you are is a _fuckwit_ ," Tig retorted irritably. "Is there something you're not tellin' me, Kozy? Why would you know that shit? Keep on cock-blocking me and I'm gonna set your ass up with Juice."

"Fuck you, asshole!" Kozik challenged.

Nico coughed delicately into her hand in an attempt to get the bickering pair's attention. "I don't mean to interrupt," she lied, hoping to prevent a fist fight from breaking out right in front of her. "I'm here to see your Pres regarding some business. Is he around?"

"He's right behind you," Jax replied. Doing a 180, Nico turned to see the handsome blond ambling his way over to where she stood from the somewhere inside the garage.

_And he's not alone._

Nico watched Jax Teller approach, once again flanked by his SAA on the right and his VP on the left. The three tall and well-built men made a visually powerful impact. Looking into Happy's mirrored sunglasses, feeling rather than actually knowing that his attention was riveted on her as she was unable to see his dark eyes, Nico felt the sudden pull of their mutual sexual attraction down to her core.

 _Down girl, this is not the time,_ she admonished herself.

She had made the special trip to Charming to deal with business slightly more important than her libido. Not by much, however. After all, it had been almost six months since the last time she had gotten laid, but important business nonetheless. Because of that, Nico forced herself to focus all of her attention and energy on the man that was the power base of the Sons of Anarchy.

"Jax," she said, holding a hand out and shaking his. "Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice."

"It's my pleasure," Jax replied graciously. "As my brothers know, I will always make time for a woman, especially one as lovely as you."

"Well, I certainly hope that one day I'll get to meet the woman that raised such a gentleman," Nico smiled.

"Wait, hold on a sec," Tig interrupted. "You knew she was coming?" he asked Jax incredulously. Opening his T-M work shirt, Tig revealed a worn wife-beater t-shirt covered with fresh as well as old grease stains. "You coulda warned a brother, you know. I would have cleaned up."

"What the hell for?" Happy scoffed somewhat angrily. "Clean up all you want, ain't nothing you can do to fix that ugly mug of yours."

"Fuck you, Hap," Tig said with a massive eye roll.

"A'ight!" Jax interjected. "Put a sock in it you two," he ordered. "I got the important shit covered, Tigger. Nico, please, follow me."

Turning to follow the SAMCRO Pres, Nico offered Tig an apologetic smile over her shoulder, nearly face-planting into the SAA's muscled chest for her trouble. Taking a step back, Nico casually let her eyes rake over Happy's long lithe body before ending on his face.

 _Damn, he is looking too fine today_ , Nico smiled to herself as she stepped around him and continued following Jax.

With their last face-to-face meet brought to a frustrating and premature end, Nico entered the Clubhouse house with the intention of making that shit right sooner rather than later.

* * *

"So," Jax drawled. Placing a mug of hot coffee in front of Nico, he sat down in a chair opposite her and leaned back. "Something tells me you didn't drive that pretty little cage of yours all the way from Reno just to drop off the vig, hoping to score a shitty cup of Joe, darlin'."

"Well, not _just_ ," Nico replied. Picking up the mug, she took a delicate sip of its contents and was pleasantly surprised by the robust flavor. "And I wouldn't call this a shitty cup of coffee, but since you mentioned it," she put down the mug and, reaching into her handbag, pulled out a fat manila envelope and placed it in the middle of the table. "Let's get that bit of business out of the way, shall we?"

Nico watched as the VP picked up the offering, extracting a neat stack of crisp one hundred dollar bills bound together by a mustard-colored currency strap that read "$10,000". Letting out a low whistle as he fanned through the bills with a thick thumb, Opie looked Nico in the eyes. "There are five more just like it in here."

"I am aware, after all, I counted it myself," Nico stated, one leg crossed over the other at the knee and her hands resting casually in her lap. "Sixty grand was the number we agreed on for a vig paid a year in advance, was it not?" she asked Jax, who nodded his head once in agreement, his face otherwise betraying nothing.

"Hijacking other people's shit must pay a lot of bank," Opie said, dropping the stack of bills into the envelope before tossing it onto the table.

"If done by professionals, it can be quite lucrative," Nico replied, her chin up in the air, "and as I said before, my brother is the best."

"And what about you, Nico?" Jax spoke up. "We never really got around to discussing what kind of work it is you do for your father."

"Whatever it is, must be _lucrative_ as well," Opie stated as he crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her somewhat suspiciously. "Judging by the designer power suit."

"That's right," Jax started with a smirk. "We usually don't see women dressed like you around here, unless it's my attorney."

Nico smiled sheepishly as she threw her hands up and shrugged her dainty shoulders. "You got me. I am in-house counsel for my father's conglomerate, which includes several hotels, casinos, restaurants, bars—"

"Among _other_ things," Opie added sarcastically.

Nico nodded. "Yes, in addition to the hospitality business, the Syndicate—as its known—also dabbles in construction and waste management, among _other_ things," she replied and watched as the SAMCRO Pres nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised by the revelation of her position in her father's organization.

On the other hand, sitting back in his chair, Happy stared Nico up and down as he tried to hide his own surprise. From the moment he had met her, there had been no doubt in Happy's mind that Tiny was some sort of educated, hoity-toity high-class piece of ass. Never would he have guessed, however, that she was a shark in designer duds with organized crime connections.

_A fuckin' mob lawyer!_

Apparently, Happy wasn't the only one struggling to wrap his head around Nico's claim. "You? A mouthpiece for the mob?" Opie queried, his voice skeptical, and then he chuckled. "I don't buy it, mafia princess."

Nico cocked an eyebrow at Opie. "What's so hard to believe?"

"You mean, aside from the obvious?" Happy inserted.

"Meaning that I'm a woman?" Nico asked although she already knew the answer.

"Yeah, that and the fact that you're probably not old enough to be out of law school yet," Opie added.

"I'd consider that a compliment if it weren't so backhanded," Nico smirked.

"How old _are_ you?" Jax asked curiously.

"How old are _you_?" Nico shot back.

"Thirty-three," he replied without hesitation.

"Well, let's just say I'm older than you and leave it at that." Nico smiled. "And I assure you," she directed at Opie, "I graduated law school quite some time ago and passed the bar on my first try. Any organization would be lucky to have me on its payroll," she boasted.

"And you're saying you're on the Syndicate's payroll?" Jax asked a little warily himself.

"Yes, I am," Nico stated emphatically. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Other than having the box set of _The Sopranos_ , darlin', I know next to nothing about the hierarchy of a mob family," Jax explained. "So, pardon me for saying so, but generally speaking I was under the impression that there usually isn't a whole lot of female involvement in the 'family business', am I right?"

"You are absolutely right, but times are a'changin'," Nico replied. "I may not have the equipment required to enter a men's room and sling it around like the big boys, but that—along with my Master's in business and my law degree—works to my advantage. Over the years, I've acquired a skill set that both my father and my uncle not only admire, but are open-minded enough to utilize, allowing the Syndicate's legitimate holdings to flourish." She leaned back in her chair. "I gather that it's safe to assume that you've done your due diligence and ran a background check on us."

Jax nodded. "It's nothing personal, you understand. SAMCRO does have a long-standing business as well as personal relationship with Jimmy Cacuzza, but we're not at all familiar with the Torelli branch of the family tree, especially since it's based in Reno."

"No personal offence taken," Nico replied. "As a matter of fact, I expected no less from the Sons."

Jax sat up and put his elbows on the table. "As in-house counsel for the Syndicate, I bet you're up to your neck in the day-to-day aspects of the legitimate side of the business," he stated with interest and Nico nodded in agreement. "How deep are you involved in the not-so-legitimate side?"

"About waist-deep," Nico replied candidly. "When it comes to the _other_ side of the family business, I'm what's considered a facilitator or a fixer. I basically put out fires by taking care of shit that requires absolute discretion and brains instead of muscle. I troubleshoot, not with a gun but by manipulating the law and I answer only to my father and now my uncle."

"Sounds like a big job for such a little girl," Opie opined, somewhat impressed.

"This time, I'll take that as a compliment in spite of its backhandedness," Nico retorted good-naturedly.

"Okay, so why bother telling us all this?" Happy asked irritably, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sounds like you're making a sales pitch, so it must be for a reason."

Nico smiled as she turned her sapphire blue eyes on him. "Because I know I can help the MC," she said with quiet confidence.

Jax eyed her gravely. "Help us in what way?" he asked suspiciously.

"Why, help the Club go completely legit, of course," Nico said sweetly. "After all, isn't that what you're trying to accomplish, Jax?"

* * *

Although the three men sitting before her seemed comfortably at ease, Nico had noted the subtle change in Jax's eyes and knew that her shot across the bow had scored a direct hit. She also knew she was taking a huge chance coming at the Sons with such an aggressive approach, but that was just her style when it came down to business. As a woman in a man's world, Nico had quickly learned that it was always best to come across like a tough bitch instead of soft and easily manipulated. Now, as she eyed these men who were openly eyeing her in return, Nico hoped she hadn't overplayed her hand by putting all of her cards on the table so soon.

"That's certainly an interesting, yet misinformed theory," Jax said calmly. "I hate to rain on your parade, Nico, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Nico chuckled as she looked Jax right in the eye. "I know _you know_ exactly what I'm talking about, Jax. Simply put, my theories are never misinformed. I gather Intel, analyze facts and determine every outcome statistically possible before forming a theory, and I'm right 95% of the time," she explained confidently. "I also learned the family business at my father's knee. He taught me how to read people and their behavior as well as how to interpret subtle changes in organizations that can predict shifting agendas and changes to long-term goals."

Opie scoffed. "And what makes you think you know shit about SAMCRO's agenda or long-term goals?"

"Sometimes," Nico started as she leaned forward and folded her hands on the table, "it's not what you know, but who you know and what _they_ know that makes all the difference in the world. Working for my family has enabled me to establish an impressive roster of contacts. People and organizations with strong connections to the Syndicate, from low-level informants in the public and private sector to politicians and influential money makers across three states. These connections see and hear things that they are more than willing to pass along to me."

Jax let out a sigh as if to say he was growing bored with their conversation. "With all due respect, Nico, I'm still not understanding where you're going with this."

"Okay, we'll play it your way, Jax," Nico smiled. "For starters, while doing my research, I noted the recent change in the leadership of the Club which sent up a red flag."

Jax chuckled. "Really? A red flag?" he asked skeptically. "It's not unusual for the presidency to exchange hands in a motorcycle club, darlin'. After all, we are a democratic organization."

"No, it's not unusual," Nico agreed pleasantly. "An across-the-board change in leadership and officers, however, is an early indicator of major shifts on the horizon, especially when that change is referred to by some as a 'coup'."

"Hearsay," Jax stated emphatically, "but don't let that stop you. Go on, please."

"I know that prior to you and the majority of your Club ending up in Stockton Prison on federal gun charges, SAMCRO suffered some huge losses and major setbacks, including a fire that caused the complete destruction of Cara Cara Studios. By the way," Nico stated, suddenly slipping into the role of advisor. "It's not too late to file a claim for the insurance on the studio. From what I understand, your insurance company was right to deny your claim based on the word of your sole eyewitness, a convicted felon. As a matter of fact, I took the liberty of having several independent experts review the Fire Marshall's report, including photographs and other evidence, and they all disagreed with the eye witness' statement that the fire was caused by arson."

Jax looked from Happy to Opie before all three laughed, knowing for a fact that Chucky had seen A.J. Weston and his crew of white supremacist skin heads deliberately set the fire that had destroyed Cara Cara. "So what caused the fire, according to these experts?" Jax asked sardonically.

"The faulty wiring in your heating unit," Nico advised with a knowing smile. "And I have their written reports and sworn affidavits attesting to this fact, everything you could possibly need in order to re-file your claim successfully. If you'd like, I can have my office overnight those documents to your present counsel," she offered helpfully.

Jax laughed softly as he shook his head. "And how much will all this cost us?"

"I did the work _pro bono_ , Jax, so it's free of charge," Nico replied sincerely. "Just a show of good-faith effort so you and your officers know what I'm capable of."

A successful claim meant the Club would be in line to receive several hundred thousand dollars in insurance money. If Nico Torelli was capable of pulling that off with her so-called connections and by greasing the right palms, that would indeed be quite impressive, a fact Jax was unwilling to cop to. At least not yet, anyway.

Shrugging his shoulders as if he couldn't be made to care one way or another, Jax said, "Why not? Send them over to our lawyers and we'll have them re-file the claim, see what happens. I should have their business card around here somewhere."

"Won't be necessary," Nico waved him away politely. "I'm quite familiar with the firm you have on retainer, Rosen Lowen & Associates. Once we're done here, I'll text my assistant and have her send the docs over ASAP."

"So if you know the Club has a pair of sharks on speed dial," Happy started, "why the dog and pony show?"

"Because while Scott Rosen and Ally Lowen are quite good," Nico started and smiled, "I'm better. First of all, I know you weren't just protecting that cargo my brother attempted to take down. You were transporting it as well because SAMCRO _is_ Unser Trucking," she revealed. "Rosen and Lowen did an excellent job in laundering the money used to purchase and revamp the business, but they were lousy in creating a paper trail. All it took were a few mouse clicks to unravel the scheme and reveal that the money was dirty, which can and _will_ cause you huge headaches down the road if not fixed right away. Also, I understand they're having trouble clearing some roadblocks you've come across in trying to restart Cara Cara Productions in Stockton, roadblocks that don't exist for me."

Jax eyed her suspiciously. "How did you hear about that?"

"Charles Barosky," Nico replied without hesitation. "Smart move, by the way, aligning yourselves with the Lord of the Docks. And don't worry, he would never spill those beans to anyone but me. Good old Charlie and my family go way back to his days with Stockton PD. He owes us a few favors," she smiled serenely.

As the silence stretched uncomfortably amongst the group, Jax's stare directed at Nico was hard but unreadable. It was clear to Nico that she had gotten the wheels turning in his mind as he considered all she had said so far. It was Happy, however, who felt compelled to challenge her further.

"You keep talkin' like you know some shit," he retorted. "So what if SAMCRO's looking to take on some legit businesses. It ain't a crime and it don't have shit to do with our other business."

Nico shook her head. "But it is a crime if you're using unlaundered profits from gun-running to buy into legitimate businesses. That's Organized Crime 101," she chided, not-so-gently. "You may have managed to evade the ATF for twenty-plus years, but Uncle Sam always expects his cut and getting nabbed on tax evasion is a rookie mistake that's easily avoidable."

Nico watched as Jax eyed both his officers once again, noting their unspoken communication. Apparently, it seemed she had finally struck a chord with the SAMCRO President.

Focusing intense blue eyes on her, Jax started, "Let's say, for shits and giggles, that the plan is to steer Club business into a more legit direction and that I choose to believe you're as good as you say you are, what are your services gonna cost us?" he asked sardonically. "Because I can't believe that your offer to help has anything to do with making up for your brother's fuck up."

"Oh, no. The vig Dom paid takes care of that. The terms of my 'employment' would be _quid pro quo_ —you do for me, I do for you," Nico explained with a smirk. "For instance, for the next six months, I will work exclusively with the Sons to legitimize the Club while waiving my hourly fee. I will, however, require a sizeable retainer for expenses—"

"Expenses?!" the frugal miser in Happy blurted out. "What kind of expenses, mani-pedis and spa treatments?"

Nico narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. "More along the lines of pay-offs, bribes, and kick-backs. I may work for free, but my connections certainly don't."

"But you wouldn't be working for free," Jax noted. "Remember, _quid pro quo_? What is it that you want us to do for you?"

All three men waited and watched as Nico moistened her lips and formed them into a hard line. "I need SAMCRO to eliminate a traitor from the Torelli ranks."

* * *

 _Well, shit, Tiny is just plain fuckin' nuts_ , Happy thought as silence filled the room after she had made her bold statement.

The SAA wasn't completely taken by surprise, however. After hearing her break down the information she had probably worked hard to accumulate on the Club, it was obvious that she had been leading up to something. On the other hand, what he hadn't bargained for was a contract hit and, apparently, neither had Jax.

"You're asking us to kill someone for you?" Jax asked perplexed and watched as Nico gave him a sharp nod. "You work for the fuckin' mob. Ain't that shit more up your alley than it is ours?"

"It's complicated," she said briefly.

"Then you're just gonna have to un-complicate shit for us 'cause Jax is right," Happy said gruffly. "Stringing people up with piano wire is a mob specialty. Why not just handle it yourselves?"

"If only it were that simple, I wouldn't be here," Nico said and sighed a little before running her fingers through her hair. "It's a delicate situation that I'm taking a huge risk in bringing to you, but I need SAMCRO to make a serious threat to my family go away quickly, quietly and permanently, with no blowback whatsoever. If this falls on me, it falls on my family and I can't have that," she eyed Jax resolutely, "but I was told that I could count on the Club's discretion, so I need to hear you say it before I can continue."

"Out of respect for your Uncle Jimmy, yeah," Jax stated. "You can trust me and my officers to keep shit confidential, but I can't promise that we'll take you up on your offer."

"Good enough," she replied and took another sip of coffee before speaking. "My father is currently serving three-to-five in Ely State Penitentiary, a medium security facility in Nevada," she started. Noting the sardonic expression that flitted across the SAA's face, Nico pursed her lips. "Something funny about that?" she asked slightly irritated.

"Yeah, a little," Happy goaded. "Not much of a hot shit attorney are ya if daddy's serving time, huh?" He grinned in satisfaction as a battle light entered into her eyes.

"I am an excellent corporate attorney," she retorted sternly. "The family's criminal counsel, my second cousin, should have gone into the priesthood instead like his mother had wanted him to. He made several procedural errors that landed my father in prison. Needless to say, he's no longer my father's counsel or practicing law, for that matter."

"Something tells me he ain't practicing much of anything these days," Opie muttered under his breath, causing Happy to chuckle.

Ignoring them, Nico addressed Jax. "My father was recently diagnosed with liver cancer and his new counsel is actively working to get him out on a compassionate release." Nico's lips tightened. "Meanwhile, as he's languishing in prison without proper medical care, an attempt was made on his life. He's in protective custody now, but he just barely survived the attack and is still struggling to recover. I'm sure you know what that's like," she said soberly as she eyed Jax.

"Yeah, I do," Jax replied just as soberly. "I'm sorry to hear that about your father. Is he gonna be all right?"

"The cancer is killing him but obviously not quick enough for the piece of shit that wants him dead _now_ , so no, I don't think he's going to be all right," Nico replied. "Not unless we get him out of there for the treatment he needs _and_ eliminate the internal threat that wants him dead."

"Did I miss something?" Opie asked. "Why are you so sure the order for the hit on your father came from within your ranks?"

"Convicts with a lot of time on their hands see and hear a lot. The warden, a family _friend_ , caught wind of talk regarding a hostile takeover of the Syndicate involving a number of high-ranking members. Although others are involved, several unrelated sources led us to _one_ man in particular and Jimmy was able to confirm it," Nico explained. "We could get rid of him today if we wanted to, but that would mean risking an internal war. That's why the Torelli and Cacuzza branches of the Syndicate need total deniability. It can't look like a mob hit or the others involved will spook."

"That's a big risk you're asking us to take for _quid pro quo_ ," Jax stated.

"Did I forget to mention the $250K contract fee?" Nico smirked as the three officers could do very little to hide their surprise. "Just know that I need to be there to question him before he dies and that there can't be any damage done to his face."

Nico waited as the SAMCRO Pres eyed her silently before he spoke. "Give us some time to think things over, including taking you up on your offer to help with our 'hypothetical' business situation." He held out a hand across the table. "Deal?"

Nico felt the tension in her ease just the tiniest bit. Extending her hand, she took his in a firm grip. "Deal."

Releasing his hand, Nico stood up and casually tossed on her coat. "I'm staying at the Hilton in Stockton before I head back to Reno in the morning." She pulled a gold-embossed business card from her pocket and handed it Jax. "That's my personal cell, completely clean and untraceable. Give me a call when you come to a decision and thanks for hearing me out." Reaching around, she offered a hand to Opie who shook it firmly before she turned and offered her hand to Happy, her belly tightening as his large hand engulfed hers.

Telling her inner whore to keep her thong on, Nico focused on the "Unholy One" and "Men of Mayhem" patches on his kutte. "I take it those decorations are for services to the Club that include more than just a wink and a smile," she said easily as she looked into his dark eyes.

"I do whatever's necessary," he replied.

"Yeah, that tattoo around your neck pretty much speaks for itself," she murmured. Jax and Opie exchanged a perplexed look as Happy was wearing a collared shirt, no tats—except for the ink on his bald head—visible.

Realizing that she was still holding onto his hand, Nico reluctantly let it go, hoping that the slight flush she felt all over her body had not stained her cheeks as well. The smirks exchanged by the Pres and his VP indicated otherwise, however.

_Shit!_

Feeling emboldened by the heated look in Happy's eyes, in spite of blushing like a teenage girl, Nico turned to focus on Jax. "If the Club decides to help us out," she cocked her head in Happy's direction, "please consider having him do the job. I have a good feeling about him."

* * *

 _All things considered_ , Nico thought lazily as she used the plush soapy sponge to trail water up and down her leg, _things went well with the Sons_.

Leaning her head against the bath pillow behind her neck, Nico sighed as the hot steamy water penetrated her bones. It had been a long and taxing day and the extremely girly-side of her nature needed some pampering, which she decided included a long soak in the oversized marble tub to help her unwind.

Following her meeting with the Sons, Nico had spent the rest of the day at the Torelli Construction Supply Company's warehouse located in Stockton's industrial area. It was one of three highly profitable construction-based businesses the Torellis owned as part of the legitimate arm of the Syndicate. Handling legal issues related to the construction and hospitality industries was just a small part of her daily duties, which included quarterly reviews of financial statements, writing contracts and endorsements as well as sitting in for her father as Acting Chair at Board meetings. Nico loved the work, but it was something she could practically do in her sleep and after dealing with the Sons, it had nearly bored her to tears.

Overall, she had walked away from her meeting with Jax Teller and his officers quite pleased and thoroughly optimistic. Her extensive research into the MC had served her well. Although there had been a number of startling discoveries she had made which she had seen no need to mention—such as the kidnapping and subsequent rescue of his infant son—Nico knew she had been right to approach the SAMCRO Pres on an entirely business level. A college degree may make a man smart, but not necessarily savvy. Jax Teller was both—book smart and street wise. Now, all she had to do was wait him out because she was convinced that he was going to take her up on her offer.

Upon her return to the hotel, Nico had called her uncle to give him a progress report as to how everything had played out. Sighing as she flipped on the jets of the whirlpool tub, she played over their conversation in her mind.

" _So what do you think, Cara?" Jimmy asked. "I may be an old street hood, but I'm still on my game. I have a good feeling about Jackson and the Club has been very good to the family—our family for many years."_

" _You were_ _right, Zi_ _o," Nico agreed. "As a matter of fact, I felt enough confidence in Jax Teller and his leadership of the Club that I told him why we needed the hit." She was met by eerie silence on the other end of the line._

" _Nico, d_ _o you really think that was wise?" Jimmy questioned in a hushed tone._

" _Whether it was wise remains to be seen, but_ _I think it was_ _necessary_ _," Nico retorted. "Jax doesn't seem the type to ask 'how high' when someone says 'jump' just because they're waving a few 100K in his face. I can tell he takes his responsibility as the leader of his Club to heart and I think it's a good sign that he feels the need to analyze the situation thoroughly first. Frankly, I wouldn't have trusted him as the right man for the job had he accepted right away."_

" _Yeah, of course you're right," Jimmy conceded with a chuckle. "Most_ _of my dealings with SAMCRO have been through his stepfather, but I know Clay Morrow. He doesn't suffer fools lightly and neither do you. I trust your judgment on this, Cara."_

" _The easy part's over, Zio,"_ _Nico replied tiredly. "After all is said and done, the hard part will be getting Dom to focus on the family business."_

_Jimmy sighed heavily. "Nicoletta, you know I love Dominic Vincenzo as if he were my own son, but I have yet to see him do one thing that convinces me he's serious about taking over for your father," he said irritably. "Gianni_ _built an empire for him and all he wants to do is race cars. With all the hard work you put into the business, you should have been born a man, Nico. Your father could have left it all to you and with my blessing too!"_

" _Zio, please! Whatever you do, don't let Ma hear you say shit like that. She's already convinced that I have aspirations of being 'Lady Boss' some day,"_ _Nico chastised her uncle lightly._

" _And so what?" Jimmy retorted. "It's that old school Italian way of thinking that can be bad for business. Instead of installing someone who'd rather being doing something else, why not hand the reins over to someone with a head for the business?_ _"_

" _And ovaries?" Nico laughed. "I don't see that happening in my lifetime, Zio. Besides,_ _Dom can and will learn the business. We just have to give him some time to adjust and learn," she defended her little brother._

" _Time is a luxury Gianni may not have much left to give him, Cara," Jimmy said ominously. "Your father worked his fingers to the bone getting this family where it is today. If I had half what Gianni has to leave to a son, I'd be pissed off royally if he turned his back on it."_

" _It's too bad you never married."_

" _Eh, I was busy having too much fun. Still am, too. Besides, I have my nieces and nephew to spoil rotten. My sister did good pumping you kids out for Gianni."_

" _Why did you have to go and mention Ma?"_ _she asked irritably. "We were having such a nice conversation."_

" _Oy, you brought her up first!" Jimmy laughed. "When are you and your ma gonna_ _stop butting heads, huh?"_

" _Just as soon as she stops butting into my life," Nico quickly replied._

" _Rosie's an old-school Italian mother_ _, Nico, so that shit ain't gonna happen," Jimmy started. "She just wants for her girls what she has with Gianni, love, security and family."_

" _I have all that, Uncle Jimmy," Nico argued lightly. "Why can't she just be happy that I'm happy?"_

" _Are you, though?" her uncle pressed._

_Nico's eyes rolled to the back of her head. "Not you too, Zio!"_

" _Hey, hey, just hear me out," Jimmy replied. "I'm not saying go out there and find yourself a nice Italian boy to settle down with. Far from it, sweetheart. You and me, we're a lot alike. We have a passion for what we do for a living, am I right?"_

_Nico let out a sigh. "Yes, you are."_

" _And I'm the last person in the world trying to sell ya on this marriage deal, 'kay? That's Rosie's shtick, not mine," Jimmy insisted. "But all work and no play, Nico, and you're gonna end up burning out before your time. Listen to your Uncle Jimmy on this. A little distraction of the opposite sex variety goes a long way," he advised and Nico burst out laughing. "What's so funny? I'm being serious here."_

_Nico coughed in an effort to control her laughter. "I know you are, Zio. I'm sorry," she apologized. "No need to worry, however. I have plenty to keep me distracted in that regard."_

_Nico could hear Jimmy chuckle on the other end of the line. "Good for you. I don't need the deets, but I'm glad to hear that, Cara. Your father kinda sent me on a fishing expedition 'cause he worries about you," he admitted. "Your happiness means the world to him, you know this."_

" _I do," Nico replied. "And his well-being means the world to me. He needs to stop worrying about others and concentrate on getting better."_

" _Yeah, good luck tryin' to convince him of that shit," Jimmy said. "He also wanted me to box your ears for not visiting lately."_

_Nico pinched the bridge of her nose. "He knows if I could I'd visit every day, but until this situation has been dealt with, it's best if I keep my visits to a minimum."_

" _Yeah, he knows you're watching out for him. He just misses seeing his mini-me. He's proud of you and how you're handling this turncoat situation for him."_

" _Don't let him declare victory just yet, Zio," Nico cautioned. "We're not any closer to a resolution than we were yesterday."_

" _That's where you're wrong, sweetheart," Jimmy responded. "You reached out and set things in motion with the Sons. They'll come through for us, they always have, and when they do, we'll put this shit to bed quickly and quietly."_

Pulling the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket next to the tub, Nico filled the delicate crystal flute to the brim with the icy wine and took several indulgent gulps. As much as she was sure her uncle believed he was paying her a compliment, Nico was still chafed by the general mentality shared by the boys' club that was the Syndicate that she was somehow inferior because of her gender. They considered it "cute" that she liked to _play_ at being a "career gal". While many teased her light-heartedly, others had no issue with blatantly telling her to cut that shit out and start having more babies before she got too old, as if her worthiness were tied to her ovaries. If only they knew that the only thing "tied" were her ovaries, a procedure she had secretly done when her then-husband thought she was spending a week in a spa.

Despite that stupid mentality, Nico managed to do quite a lot for the Syndicate, thanks in large part to her father. Gianni Torelli was and would always be her greatest, albeit secret cheerleader. He had always been the one to pick her up and dust her off when her male cousins played too rough, whispering his encouragement to go out there and kick their asses. He had recognized her mind for business early on and had supported her desire to finish college even when her mother and then new-husband had been clamoring for her to have a baby.

Gianni "Brooklyn Johnny T" Torelli was the one man in her life—aside from her own son—Nico knew without a doubt loved her unconditionally. He had been her hero from the day she had taken her first toddling steps towards his outstretched arms. In Nico's mind, she would always remember her father as a giant of a man. Standing at 6'4, he was larger than life and robust in both height and personality. As a family man, he was gregarious and generous by nature and loved by everyone. As Boss of the Torelli family, he could be ruthlessly cold. Feared by many, the pragmatic Don would not hesitate to slit anyone who ever crossed him from balls to throat.

Now, recalling the last time she had visited her father, Nico wiped several errant tears from her eyes. The cancer had dealt a serious blow to his overall health as it was. The shiv attack and his prolonged recovery had left him even more frail and unable to bounce back from his chemo treatments. He was dying right before her very eyes and Nico had resolved to make the one responsible for his deteriorating health pay the price with his own life.

Realizing that dwelling on past and present difficulties would only serve to sabotage the combined effect of the bath and wine, Nico dismissed the troubling thoughts. Allowing her mind to drift free and unfettered as her eyes gradually grew heavy, she had just decided to let herself doze for a while in the hot and bubbly water when a loud chiming suddenly echoed in the room. Groaning, Nico cracked one eye open and looked at the intercom on the wall above her head. The Hilton's penthouse suite offered much in the way of comfortable accommodations and luxury, which was why she always stayed there. The one thing they did not offer, however, was someone to answer the door for her.

"Who can it be?" Nico moaned with irritation as she had already eaten dinner.

With a wet hand, she pressed the intercom's "talk" button. "Yes, who is it?" she queried as she waited for a response.

" _Open the door, Tiny," a gravelly voice demanded._

"Well, shit," she murmured as she felt her naked and wet flesh break out into goosebumps, including her breasts—that is, if you could count her nipples hardening as goosebumps. "Seems as if someone picked up on the hint I dropped."

Pressing down on the "talk" button once again, Nico replied, "Hold onto your boxers, killer. I'll be there in a minute."

" _Can't do that," he replied (and she could just hear the smirk on his sexy face), "I'm not wearing any."_

Nico snorted with laughter before clicking off. Turning off the tub's whirlpool, she stood up as water streamed from her body. Grabbing a plush towel, Nico exited into her bedroom as she hurriedly dried herself off while simultaneously looking for her robe.

"I guess I won't be watching 'Little Fockers' on pay-per-view after all," she quipped as slipped on a long black silk robe and headed for the door.

_Yay, me!_

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Stockton, CA – Wednesday, February 2, 2011** _

Snatching the turban she had fashioned to keep her hair dry in the tub off her head, Nico hurriedly shook out her long locks, combing her fingers through them as the penthouse suite's doorbell continued to peal merrily.

"Keep your pants on, killer. I'm coming," Nico muttered under her breath as she quickly examined her face in the mirror. It was almost eleven o'clock and she had long given up hope on the sexy outlaw showing up. "Two can play at that game. Now it's his turn to wait for me."

After artfully smudging eyeliner on the rim of her lower lids, Nico started applying a light coat of lip gloss. Ultimately deciding against it, she hastily blotted her lips with a tissue, tossing it and the tube of gloss into her open make up case sitting on the vanity before making her way to the suite's entranceway.

Nico had been pretty much convinced that she had been stood up again. After sneaking out on Happy the morning after their one night together, her invitation—by way of Jury—for another Indian Hills hook up had fallen on deaf ears. Confident of her performance that night, she hadn't taken the snub personally, writing it off instead to the fickleness of bikers who had women crawling all over them.

Although running into Happy once again in Charming had not been a coincidence, Nico had been pleasantly surprised that he had seemed keen on a reunion of sorts. Had Dominic not interrupted their verbal foreplay with a family crisis, her little brother might have found himself reluctantly spending the night among outlaw bikers. Determined not to let another opportunity to vigorously sin with SAMCRO's SAA slip through her fingers once again, at the end of her meeting with Jax Teller earlier, Nico had made it a point of casually dropping the name of the Stockton hotel she was staying in.

And after keeping her waiting for hours, here was Happy at her door, impatiently leaning on the buzzer!

Coming to a stop at the door, Nico smoothed the robe over her hips. Looking down, she cursed to herself as she saw her small bare feet, their coral-tipped nails winking up at her. In her haste, she had forgotten to jump into her Louboutin heels before rushing out of the bedroom, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

Unlocking the door, Nico pulled it open and propped herself up against the doorframe as she gave Happy the eye.

"You planning on keeping my ass out here all night, Tiny?" he asked gruffly.

"Now, why would I do that when you would be of more use to me in here?" Nico asked with faux coyness before opening the door wide. "Please do come in," she invited as she made a dramatic and sweeping gesture with her Kimono-sleeved arm. Closing the door behind her, Nico leaned against it, curiously watching as Happy took in his surroundings with a raised eyebrow.

The penthouse suite boasted a sitting area, dining room, an outdoor stone terrace, and three luxurious bedrooms, each with its own en suite bathroom. The ornate foyer led out into an expansive living room filled with white leather couches, strategically placed around the room so that the Stockton skyline could be enjoyed from every angle through the floor to ceiling windows.

"Fancy digs," Happy said as he turned around.

"I like nice things," Nico replied as she confidently strode towards him.

"Then what the hell am I doing here?" Happy asked, his voice a low sexy growl.

Nico watched as he approached her like a majestic jungle cat about to pounce on its prey and moistened her suddenly dry lips. "I like naughty things too," she purred. "I was starting to wonder, however, if maybe I had been a little too subtle with my invitation, it took you long enough to show up." She petulantly cocked her head up at him, forcing Happy to tighten every muscle in his face to keep from smiling.

 _If she wasn't such a horny little bitch, she'd be downright pissed at me_.

"I was busy."

"So I gathered," Nico muttered as Happy stepped right into her personal space.

Caught in the middle of the war between her prideful irritation and her tingling lady bits, Nico figured some comeuppance might be in order. Trailing her hand up his chest, she noted the burning in Happy's eyes as he held his breath. Since he hadn't so much as offered an apology for his tardiness, Nico reasoned with herself that he must not have a problem with being kept waiting for what she knew they both wanted. Turning on her toes, Nico headed over to the long cabinet which housed a mini-bar full of snacks and liquor.

"Wanna drink?" she offered as she reached down to open a small cabinet door to retrieve a glass.

With the deep pile of thick wall-to-wall gray carpet, Nico barely registered hearing the heavy footfalls of her visitor. She cut loose with a sudden squeal of surprise as large firm hands gripped her waist and spun her around.

"Shit, Hap! You nearly scared the crap out of me," she sputtered as she abruptly found herself hoisted on top of the bar's counter.

"I didn't come here for a drink, Tiny," he growled. "I came to fuck." Untying and pulling loose the silky belt that held her robe closed, Happy flung it over his shoulder as Nico's wide eyes watched it flutter onto the floor. The now-untethered robe parted to reveal her naked and beautiful body.

* * *

Caught off guard by the sight of Tiny in a black silk robe that caressed every sinful curve of her body, Happy's dick had hardened into granite the second she had opened the door. Actually, the moment the mafia diva had deliberately dropped the Intel regarding her whereabouts, Happy's plans for spending the night fucking the shit out of her had quickly fallen into place as his dick stood at attention and hollered, "Hell's yeah!"

Almost salivating at the memory of her awesomely tight and deliciously wet pussy, Happy had bristled at getting held back by Jax for another meeting after Juice had pulled together some information. In hindsight—and in spite of how annoyed he had been—having Jax think out loud as he and Opie listened had worked to his advantage. Not only had it kept him from looking overly eager, but judging from the spark in her eyes, being kept waiting had lit a fire in Tiny's belly. A complacent and eager-to-please croweater was always a good thing, but Happy was starting to see the attraction of a bitch that made a man work for it.

In addition to having Nico wait on his arrival, the plan had been to spend some time mining her for information. As the Sergeant-At-Arms of his Club, Happy was fiercely territorial when it came to someone rolling up on their turf with an offer too good to be true. While he had an extremely well-developed skill set when it came to identifying and eliminating outside threats, and while he was mostly convinced that Nico Torelli's interest in the Club was legit, it wouldn't hurt for him to get a few more salient facts about her plans before they got down to the business end of a really good and angry fuck.

However, in spite of having the Club's best interest at the forefront of his mind, his lizard brain had taken over, letting his dick do the talking before his mouth could get a word in edgewise. Now as he loomed over Nico, Happy grinned fiercely as she looked up at him with deep blue eyes already dilated with desire.

 _Small talk can fuckin' wait 'til the morning. We have some lost time to make up for,_ he thought as he crushed his mouth down on hers in a bruising kiss. His rough hands sliding over her smooth body, Happy impatiently shoved the robe off her shoulders, forming a pool of black silk around her on the mini-bar. Quickly unzipping his pants, Happy pulled out his hard cock, giving it a few rough strokes as he realized with only slight annoyance that he had forgotten to grab some condoms before leaving the Clubhouse.

 _Too fucking late now_ , he thought.

* * *

Any thoughts Nico had of letting Happy cool his heels before pouncing on his ass evaporated the moment he had lifted her up onto the bar. Looking into his glittering black eyes, Nico felt molten heat immediately flare up in her core, realizing with shock that she was already wet for him.

 _And it's a good thing too_ , Nico reasoned as it appeared that Happy was in something of a hurry as he hooked her knees over his forearms and pulled her towards the edge of the bar. As her robe finally slid into a heap on the floor, she couldn't stop the breathy moan that escaped her as she felt his engorged tip at her moist entrance.

Holding onto his granite hard biceps for balance, Nico braced for impact and was not disappointed as Happy pushed into her with one deliciously violent stroke. They groaned in unison as her walls clenched tight around the magnificent intrusion. Bringing his hands to her hips for leverage, Happy leaned into her and enveloped her mouth with his as he tried to set a rhythmic pace. She was too tight, however, and after several minutes of hard and fast fucking, Happy had to slow it down some or risk nutting too soon like some love struck 14-year old.

"Oh my God!" Nico was breathing heavy. "You feel so fucking good, Hap," she whispered.

It was incredible, feeling him stuffing her to capacity once again, and she knew she was already close. Desperate for release but needing the friction to get her there, Nico shifted her hips. She cried out, letting her head fall back, her clit coming into direct contact with Happy's pubic bone as he continued pumping into her. Looking down between them, Happy growled at the sight of Nico's glistening pink pussy and his rigid cock covered in her sweet-smelling juices and any remnant of self-control he had left disappeared. Holding her hips firm and not letting her move, he started viciously pounding into her.

"Oh fuck!" Nico grabbed Happy by the back of his head as he leaned into her to tug and suck on one of her nipples and then the other before bringing his mouth back to hers.

They were fucking hard—the whaap, whaap, whaap of skin slapping against skin almost drowning out Happy's expletive-filled groans and Nico's soft whimpering. His balls tightened and, knowing that he was going to come soon, Happy reached between them and rubbed her clit with his thumb. With her eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head, Happy felt her clench around him as she came at the top of her lungs.

"Fuckin' hell, Tiny!" Happy buried his face in her neck, the pull of her tight pussy as she convulsed underneath him making his legs feel like jelly. Nico wrapped her arms around Happy's neck corded by the strain as he continued pumping into her. Groaning incoherently, Happy bit into her shoulder to keep himself from crying out as he came inside her.

Except for the sound of the pair trying to catch their breaths, the room was silent as they held each other for a moment longer. Finally pulling away, Happy readjusted himself into his pants as Nico awkwardly tried to straighten up on the bar, not trusting that her legs could support her body weight if she attempted to stand up.

Running both hands over his face to wipe away the perspiration, Happy stole a glance at Nico. He thought she was beautiful before, but in the afterglow, mere moments after coming undone, she was something else. Her wide dark blue eyes were shiny and her lips were pillowy and swollen from his brutal kisses. Even though her legs were now closed, he could see the redness he had caused her inner thighs as he pounded mercilessly into her. She was too fair-skinned and delicate—or he was just that rough—as he could already see his handprints developing into bruises on her hips where he had held her down.

"Shit, Hap," Nico managed to whisper hoarsely as she tried to get her hair back into some semblance of order. "Shit," she moaned again.

Using his index finger to tip her face up to meet his, Happy grinned. She looked thoroughly and awesomely fucked and she was even more gorgeous because of it. "It's been a while since you've been taken for a ride like that, huh, Tiny?"

 _Try never, or at least not before I met you_ , she thought but was completely unwilling to admit.

"What makes you think you were all that, outlaw?" Nico replied cheekily instead as Happy fixed a stern eye on her.

"What was that? I can't hear," Happy suddenly teased. "My ears are still ringin' from all that screaming you were doin'."

Nico rolled her eyes. "All right," she groused. "Don't go getting all full of yourself now. So maybe it's been a minute . . . or two." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

 _More like 16 long years of battery-powered only orgasms_ , she thought grimly. _Who knew what the fuck I was missing_?

"Maybe you were a bit too much for your ex," Happy contemplated out loud even though he hadn't meant to. _God knows I almost blew my load before I wanted to_. "A pussy like yours needs a real man taking care of it."

"Oh, and you're that man?" Nico eyed him speculatively.

With feline grace, Happy leaned into her, his teeth grabbing and nipping her lobe before growling into her ear, "Whose dick did you drench as you came harder than any bitch I've ever had before?"

He was so close that Happy could hear Nico swallow the lump in her throat. Pulling back, he noted the strange look of longing on her pretty face even though her eyes where closed.

"I'm guessing your ex was real good at leaving you feeling deprived and unsatisfied. That would sure explain why you're so good at your job as a lawyer. Were you overcompensating for what was missing from your sex life, Tiny?" Happy whispered and grinned as Nico's eyes flew open and flashed dangerously at him.

"You don't know me like that," Nico stated emphatically.

"I know all I need to know about you by the way you fuck," Happy countered.

Nico chuckled derisively. "Really? And what's that?"

So intently focused on his face, Nico was caught off guard as Happy, quick as a snake, slipped his arm around her slim waist and swept her off the bar and into his arms. "That you're in dire need of making up for lost time," he replied before taking her mouth in a deep, wet kiss that Nico felt all the way down to the tips of her painted toes.

Breaking away from her lips, Happy stooped down by the silken belt of her robe. "Pick it up, Tiny," he commanded, knowing it would come in handy for what he had in store for her. Quickly doing as she was told, Nico squealed as Happy headed in the direction of one of the bedrooms.

As great a fuck as Nico Torelli already was, Happy figured it was time for somebody to break her in and school her on what a real man is like in the bedroom.

 _And I'm just the dirty biker to do it too_.

* * *

It was the persistent tinkling of chimes that finally pulled Happy out of a deep, exhausted sleep.

Groaning, he rolled over onto his side, enjoying the extreme comfort that the king size bed underneath offered. In search of the soft and supple curves he had spent all night re-familiarizing himself with, Happy stretched a muscled arm over the wrinkled mass of bed sheets next to him and came up empty. It took nearly half a minute for the sleep-deprived receptors in his brain to snap and crackle to life, but when they did, it finally dawned on him that he was the bed's lone occupant.

"Wh—what," Happy said groggily as the sound of tinkling chimes started once again. "Shit!" he exclaimed, coming suddenly awake. "Tiny! Move your ass and get the damn door!" he shouted raising his head off the pillow.

Only silence greeted him in return.

"What the fuck?" he said as he rolled into a sitting position and ran his hand over the slightly prickly fuzz of new growth on his shaven dome. "Hold the fuck on!" he hollered at the chimes and, flipping off the bed sheets from around his naked body, stood up and headed towards the open bedroom door. Scooping up his discarded jeans that lay stretched over the back of a chair, he made his way through the hallway. Passing the empty sitting room and then the empty formal dining area, the facts of his present situation started chasing away the fog clouding his brain.

 _I'm fuckin' alone in this shit, ain't I_? he thought grimly as he shrugged into first one leg of his jeans and then the other.

Finally approaching the door of the suite, Happy flipped the lock, reached for the doorknob and threw the door open.

"What the fuck do you want?" he growled at the slender young man dressed in a white uniform with gleaming gold buttons and pristine gloves. He was standing in front of an ornate cart that was filled with covered dishes, the aroma of the food they concealed causing Happy's stomach to rumble in hungry anticipation.

"He—Hello, Mr. Lowman," the young porter stuttered. Confronted by Happy's fierce stare and colorfully tattooed chest and arms, he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously up and down. "I have breakfast for you."

For a moment, Happy just stared at the servant. "I didn't order any fuckin' breakfast."

"Uh, yes, sir. I mean, no sir, but Ms. Torelli did. Shall I bring it in, sir?"

"Yeah, a'ight. And stop sir'ing me to death, will ya?" he retorted.

Standing to the side, Happy watched as the boy—barely old enough to grow more than just a few sparse whiskers above his upper lip—almost tripped over his own feet as he stepped into the room. Wheeling the cart in behind him, the porter managed to make it over to the dining area while warily stealing glances at Happy over his shoulder. Stopping at the table with two chairs set in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Stockton, he turned to face the outlaw and offered him a check presenter and a pen.

Making no move to accept it, Happy just stared menacingly at the young man.

"Uh, sir—I mean, Mr. Lowman, I just need you to sign this," the server said, managing a slight nod at the billfold in his outstretched hand.

"I ain't paying for this shit," came Happy's terse reply.

"Oh no, sir—I mean, Mr. Lowman. I just need your signature to acknowledge receipt of your room service," the boy stammered as he struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. "Everything has been paid for in advance by Ms. Torelli, including a very generous tip."

"Good 'cause I wasn't planning on tipping."

"Of course not, sir."

Snatching the pen and the black leather folder from the boy, Happy flipped it open and signed his name with a flourish, although not before noting the three-digit fee for the meal.

"Are you people shitting me? Over a hundred bucks for some fuckin' eggs and toast?"

The porter hastily took the billfold from Happy. "It seems pricey, I know, but I just work here." Quickly heading for the door, the young man stopped abruptly and reluctantly turned back. "I almost forgot." Walking over to Happy, he pulled an envelope from the breast pocket of his uniform and held it out to the biker. "Ms. Torelli asked that I deliver this to you as well. Have a nice day, sir," he said before rushing to the door and closing it behind him.

Flipping the envelope over in his hands and seeing his full name scrawled on the front somehow didn't surprise him much as Tiny was proving quite adept at figuring shit out on her own. Ripping it open, Happy pulled out a single folded sheet of heavy stock creamy white paper. Her handwriting, a flowing script, was as bold as she was.

_**Good morning, killer.** _

_**Sorry I had to bounce, but I had to head back to Reno bright and early. I took the liberty of ordering breakfast for you as I am sure that a man with an appetite for sex like you needs to fuel up in the morning. I ordered a bit of everything from the menu, but if you prefer something in particular, just give room service a call. The room's paid for, so enjoy. I highly recommend giving the whirlpool a try!** _

_**Ciao, Nico** _

"Fuck! Tiny Bitch is too good at this hit-and-run shit," Happy muttered to himself as he tossed the letter and envelope on top of the table, eyeing them with irritation.

This was the second time she had left him high and dry and wanting just a little bit more. Knowing that he would normally be grateful waking up alone after fucking some bitch all night long, the fact that he felt like a jilted lover pissed him off. Even more than Tiny not being around to blow him one more time before he hit the road. Happy growled, also annoyed with himself for not grilling Nico when he had the chance about her seemingly genuine and generous offer to help the Club.

Finally turning his attention to the cart, one after the other Happy lifted the covers off of the various dishes to reveal sunny side up eggs, waffles, crepes, muffins, sausage, bacon and ham, fresh fruit, and various other sundries, pastries, freshly-squeezed orange juice and coffee.

Sitting down, Happy poured himself a cup of black coffee from the ornate silver carafe before scooping up the sunny side eggs, and some bacon and sausage and sat down. Unfolding the _Stockton News_ that had been tucked into the side of the cart, he wryly shook his head as he opened the paper.

"I'll give her this much. Tiny's got class," he said aloud as he sipped his coffee before taking a large bite of the eggs. "But this is the last time she's gonna get away with this shit. I fuckin' guarantee it."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada - Saturday, February 12, 2011** _

The Torelli Compound sat on an impressive ten acres of prime real estate located within five miles of Reno's city limits. The sprawling eight-bedroom, eleven-and-a-half bath Art Deco mansion boasted tennis and basketball courts, a lovely English-inspired walking garden, an Olympic-sized infinity pool with a two-bedroom pool house, and a ten car garage. To many in Reno's high society, it was a vulgar display of wealth. Having lived their entire lives there, to Nico Torelli and her three siblings it was simply home.

Wrapped in a black and grey chinchilla stole that was a gift from her father after her divorce, Nico stood on the white stone terrace overlooking her family estate. Although it was a chillier than usual desert night, Nico had no intention of going inside. Instead, from her position outside the French doors leading into the ballroom, she huddled underneath her fur and watched the evening's festivities with a cynical eye.

Acting as her mother's financial adviser while her father was in prison, Nico had set a strict budget for the extravagant party Rosanna Torelli had been planning for months to celebrate her granddaughter Christina's confirmation. Although not one to spare any expense herself when it came to her family, Nico was not at all pleased by the fact that her mother had blown at least half of her allotted budget on flowers alone. With Nico refusing to give her carte blanche for party expenses, Rosanna had gone over her head and directly to her husband Gianni, the presently incarcerated "CEO" of the Torelli family.

In spite of the fact that it had been a direct order from her father to keep her mother's spending in check, Nico knew it was a battle she was destined to lose. Even after 43 years of wedded bliss, there was nothing in the world Gianni Torelli would deny his beloved wife. Not surprisingly, when it was all said and done, Rosanna had spent six figures on a 12-year's rite of passage, almost as much as had been spent on each of the Torelli daughters' weddings.

 _If only Papa was here to see it all_ , Nico smiled to herself as she took in the happy antics of her extended family and business associates in the opulent ballroom. Gianni would probably bitch and moan about the expense for all of thirty seconds. Then he'd give his wife a frisky slap on the ass before setting off to enjoy being the life of the party.

Leaning against the stone balustrade, Nico watched the jacketed wait staff dancing in, out and around the crowd of partiers deftly carrying trays laden with hot and cold hors d'oeuvres, as well as flutes of imported Prosecco spumante and frozen Bellinis. A five-piece jazz ensemble was playing on a raised platform as several guests took to the dance floor before the cocktail hour drew to a close and dinner was served.

Smiling, Nico noted her niece Christina, still wearing her red and white confirmation robe over her formal dress and surrounded by her younger cousins. The center of attention, Christina happily flitted from one guest to another as they handed her envelopes stuffed with cash which she tucked into the ever-expanding white silk satchel hanging from her dainty wrist.

Nico smirked as her niece approached the Archbishop of Reno and watched as the Most Reverend Leonardo Francis Albertini gingerly patted her on the head. It must have taken every ounce of restraint in the holy man's possession not to wipe his hand in disgust after Christina walked away as he made it no secret that he had very little tolerance for children. Doing so, however, would have been a slap in the face of the Reno Archdiocese's most fervent and generous patron, Rosanna Torelli.

Because nothing short of spectacular would do for her granddaughter's big day, Rosanna had insisted that the Archbishop of the Saint Thomas Aquinas Cathedral himself be the one to officiate. With aspirations of being elected to the College of Cardinals one day, His Excellency had no choice but to abide by Mrs. Torelli's "request" or risk losing her support. Nico snorted derisively at the lengths her mother would go to in seeking penance for the misdeeds perpetuated by her family. In addition to donating generously to the Church, Rosanna, along with her two older daughters, served as Chair of several faith-based charities and community outreach programs, apparently all in the hopes of saving her loved ones from the fiery pits of Hell.

The fact that the Torelli matriarch believed she had the power and authority to negotiate with and essentially bribe God was just one of the many reasons Nico had chosen to brave the 45 degree weather. As much as she loved her mother, there was just no getting around the fact that they got along the best when they kept their distance from each other. Knowing what a disappointment she was to her mother, Nico was sure that Rosanna hadn't noticed her absence by her side as she greeted her 200-plus guests. As a matter of fact, with her two eldest daughters anchored to her side, Rosanna was busy being an engaging hostess as she entertained a local city councilman.

In her early-60's—and looking as young as her daughters—Rosanna's soft copper hair was swept into an intricate updo. Wearing a champagne-colored Vera Wang gown that clung to her hour-glass figure and matching six-inch Louboutins heels, she literally sparkled from head to toe. Sporting at least a million dollars in diamonds, she had the precious gems woven into her hair as well as dripping from her ears, throat, and wrists. Nico shook her head, realizing that the concept of "less is more" was obviously alien to her mother.

"Anyone mugging Ma tonight would be set for life," she muttered under her breath.

"Don't let the high-class duds fool ya. Rosie would gut them like a fuckin' fish first," a voice from below replied. Looking off to her right, Nico watched as her uncle made his way up the stone steps to her side.

Giacomo "Jimmy" Cacuzza was dressed quite handsomely in a three-piece dark gray suit. Bringing the cigar he was holding to his mouth, several gold rings glittered on his fingers in the moonlight. This was a much more formal look for Jimmy, who preferred tooling around town doing business in his beloved leather jacket, plain white button down shirt, black slacks and custom-made Italian leather boots. Given the opportunity, he would have worn the suit to Church before quickly changing into his standard attire. With Rosanna's husband sick and in lock-up, however, Jimmy was clearly making a real effort to please his sister by letting her reign over her family, even if it included letting her bully him into donning a monkey suit for the evening.

"Knowing Ma, she probably has a diamond encrusted stiletto tucked into her cleavage too." Nico laughed gaily as her uncle pressed a kiss on each of her cheeks. "Just don't let her hear you call her 'Rosie' or she'll gut you too,"

Pulling away, Jimmy waved away thoughts of his overbearing but much loved sister. "And what's up with you, cara mia? You should be inside. It's cold enough to catch death out here," Jimmy admonished.

"I have a lot on my mind, Zio. I needed to get away from the noise and clear my head for a bit."

"I get that," he responded with a bob of his head.

Nico eyed him carefully. "Everything set?"

"All systems are a go," Jimmy replied soberly. "Gianni's poker room is all set for the vote and the Champagne's on ice. With all the underbosses and their capos on board, if all goes well, Rocco will be voted in as the new Boss. I'll make the announcement to the entire family before dessert." Grabbing her hand, Jimmy gently squeezed it. "Are _you_ ready?"

"More than ready," she said ruefully. "I just want this over with."

"And it will be, thanks to you," Jimmy replied. "You pulled through with an excellent strategy, kid."

"Which I will get no credit for unless, of course, it ends up in the shitter," Nico replied with distaste. "What if Ma comes looking for me—"

"Don't you worry about Rosie. I'll keep my sister so distracted she won't know what the fuck is going on," Jimmy assured her.

About to reply with an eye roll just to emphasize how nearly impossible that might prove to be, Nico's eyes brightened as a slender and gawky teenage boy came into view through the glass doors. To the great amusement of his cousins, he was balancing two trays of appetizers he had "liberated" from one of the servers and, to a round of cheers from his fan club, dropped the food onto one of the tables with great flourish. She could almost hear him exclaim "Voilà!"

"Tonio's getting big, huh? I bet you have to look up when talkin' to him now, even in those heels," Jimmy said jovially.

Nico sighed wistfully, a faint smile on her lips. Drawing closer to the doors, she watched as her son shoved three pieces of puff pastry into his mouth, his blue eyes sparkling merrily as his female cousins egged him on. "As much as I miss him and am glad he's here, I wish I hadn't let Ma nag me into pulling him out of boarding school for this," she said quietly, sighing as her uncle wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Don't beat yourself up 'cause your mother's like a dog with a fuckin' bone. She always gets her way, you know this, but I'm glad you gave in without much of a fight. It's hard enough for Rosie with Gianni on the inside. It wouldn't do for her to be without her favorite grandson at a time like this," Jimmy nodded towards the family and Nico lifted her head to focus on her son. And his father.

Nico watched as Rocco Agnello wrapped his arms around his son's slender shoulders. Giving him a seemingly never-ending hug, Rocco pulled away to ruffle Tonio's dark hair with his large hands before placing a kiss on his forehead.

 _Rocco is looking good tonight_ , Nico admitted to herself as she took in his athletic build draped in a tailored dark pinstripe Armani suit and bold red tie. With his jet black hair perfectly styled above expertly shaped dark brows and blue eyes, Rocco's five o'clock shadow only served to further enhance his movie-star good looks. Flanked by two of his soldiers—completely inappropriate at a family affair, by the way—he looked quite at ease as he posed with their son for a picture taken by the photographer hired to memorialize the occasion. Rocco's six-foot frame was slim and powerful and, at 45, he was at the pinnacle of health and vitality.

Apparently on the same wavelength, Jimmy mirrored her thoughts. "He looks good, the bastard. I guess it's a good thing that Tonio's here. Gives him a chance to see his father before—" he paused, letting his silence fill in the blanks.

" _Before_ he returns to boarding school?" Nico quipped with a raised eyebrow.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. "He made his bed, Nico."

Nico nodded solemnly in agreement.

With Dominic now joining his nephew and the man he considered a close friend, Nico straightened her shoulders as the two men exchanged warm greetings. Her brother and ex-husband with her son standing in between them made a handsome picture, but Nico forced herself to look away. There was no room for nostalgia.

 _Not tonight_.

"I guess it's time I head back inside," she smiled briefly but Jimmy noted that it wasn't reflected in her eyes. "You know what they say, Zio. A mother's work is never done."

* * *

Sitting on one of the plush sofas in the living room of the pool house, Rocco Agnello couldn't believe the night he was having.

 _And to think I was tempted to blow off coming tonight_.

Since finalizing his divorce from Nico Torelli, the last place Rocco wanted to spend any significant amount of time at was in his former in-laws' home, especially not for a family function. It was knowing that his son had flown in from his European boarding school for the occasion, combined with the opportunity to rub his position as acting Boss in the faces his brothers-in-laws that had Rocco pulling his new silver 2011 Ferrari FF onto the compound dressed in his best attire.

Once Gianni "Brooklyn Johnny T" Torelli started doing time over a year ago, Rocco had been elevated to acting head of the Syndicate with Gianni's blessing. Although the sudden transition of power had taken him by surprise, taking over that position had been on his personal agenda since relocating to Reno from the East Coast nearly 18 years ago. That plan had nearly been derailed by the beautiful woman he was now waiting on. A sensual smile formed on his lips as Rocco allowed his mind's eye to glide over the mental picture of his ex-wife's luscious body.

Nicoletta Antonia Torelli had not been what he had been expecting when he first met her. Once he had made the move out West from New York City, it had taken Rocco two long years to climb his way from associate to soldier after joining the Syndicate. During that time, although Rocco had at one time been assigned as a bodyguard for Gianni, he had not been able to learn much about the Boss's youngest daughter.

The most Rocco had heard about the eighteen year old Nico was that she didn't fit the typical "mafia princess" profile. To his way of thinking, that translated to mean that she probably looked like the back end of a horse. Still, Rocco had used what opportunities he had available to catch the eye of Gianni and his wife. Coming from the same Italian neighborhood in Queens as Rosanna Torelli, Rocco had worked his charm on Nico's mother who had quickly gone to work on setting up situations where her youngest daughter would be present.

Never in need of matchmakers before, Rocco had figured that sweeping the young Nicoletta off her feet would insure him a more secure position within her father's organization, something that two other Torelli soldiers had managed successfully when they married into Gianni's family.

That agenda, however, immediately took a back burner when Rocco had finally been introduced to Nico. Surprised by how truly beautiful she was, Rocco had been completely smitten with Gianni's young but self-assured daughter at first sight. Unfortunately for Rocco, the feeling was evidently not mutual because, even though they soon started dating, Nico had made it clear that she wasn't interested in anything serious between them as she started her junior year in college. That should have been the first red flag that he wasn't dealing with a typically subservient woman, the kind he had been accustomed to and which made excellent mob wives.

Luckily, however, Rosanna had been supportive of his courtship of her "difficult" daughter and encouraged Rocco in his pursuit of a relationship with Nico. Eventually, in what Nico had considered a betrayal of his promise to let her finish school before the subject of marriage became an issue, Gianni gave Rocco his consent to propose during her senior year.

After working hard academically her entire life and entering the University of Nevada at the early age of 16, her educational achievement had been eclipsed—barely recognized, according to Nico—as she and Rocco were married in a lavish wedding just days after her college graduation shortly before her twentieth birthday. Even then, Nico had only agreed to marry him as long as he supported her desire to continue with her education by going to law school. Although he had publicly agreed, the truth was that both Rocco and Rosanna believed that Nico's only career choice should be raising children and being a good Italian housewife.

With Gianni in full support of his favorite daughter, however, Rocco had no choice but to concede if he had any hope of achieving his end goal. So after their wedding, the new Mr. and Mrs. Agnello settled into the home that Gianni had bought for them as a wedding present.

In spite of how things turned out for them, Rocco had to admit that Nico had done an incredible job in juggling her desire to become an attorney while meeting her obligations as his wife. He also had to admit that having a beautiful, smart and engaging woman by his side had helped him steadily climb the Syndicate ladder of success. With his wife's support, Rocco went from soldier to capo, eventually surpassing his brothers-in-law by becoming an Under Boss several years ago.

Nico had given birth to their son within their first year of marriage, but by the time Tonio was seven, whatever semblance of a happy marriage they had, had started to disintegrate. Of course, during their many fights, Rocco would blame Nico's career obsession for their failed marriage when in reality he knew he was the one to blame. Although Nico never ran to her father for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on, Rocco knew she had every reason to. Not only did Nico have full knowledge of his constant cheating, but she was well aware of his drug and gambling addictions as well.

Her massive Torelli pride was the only logical reason Rocco could see as to why Nico never ratted him out to Gianni or her Uncle Jimmy. That and her need to please her mother, a woman that would never be pleased no matter what Nico did. In spite of being too coked up half the time to give a shit about his wife losing interest in keeping up appearances, Rocco believed he had established himself well enough within the Syndicate that becoming the next Don was inevitable.

Although Nico was fond of reminding him that Dominic was next in line to take over for her father, she had no clue that Rocco had been secretly financing her brother's obsession with racing, keeping him occupied and out of the Torelli family business. Rocco had covered all his bases and had no reason not to believe that permanently taking over the Syndicate was only a matter of time.

That is, until Nico decided to file for divorce.

Having done everything he could to convince Nico what a mistake that would be, Rocco had finally caved when she threatened to file anyway, this time including his infidelity and drug addiction in her complaint. Knowing that Nico was the apple of her father's eye, having Gianni aware of his marital misdeeds would not bode well for his own career aspirations. Even worse, if Gianni was half the gangster he had been in his youth, it was unlikely that a divorce would be necessary. Rocco had no doubt that his father-in-law would make arrangements for his daughter to end up a widow instead.

Fortunately, divorcing Gianni's little princess had not jeopardized his place in the Syndicate as Acting Boss. Now, in the wake of the attempt on Gianni's life in prison, the under bosses saw the need for action in order not to appear weak in the eyes of their enemies and had unanimously voted Rocco in as Boss of the Torelli Empire.

 _And it seems as if someone has regrets about severing ties prematurely with the power base of this family_ , Rocco thought smugly and sat back to reexamine what the fuck had just happened between him and Nico as he patiently waited for her to join him in the pool house.

* * *

_In the midst of receiving congratulatory back slaps and double-cheek kisses as a crowd pressed around him, Rocco spotted Nico waiting patiently on the periphery._

_Rocco figured—and certainly had hoped after their divorce—that Nico would eventually lose her looks somewhere down the line. Looking at her now, it was clear that time wasn't tonight. As a matter of fact, she was looking particularly gorgeous in a strapless royal blue dress that molded over her generous curves, her wavy dark hair tumbling down her back in fat curls. He smirked as he noted her 5" heels, realizing that she would forever feel inadequate because of her diminutive height._

_Finally, after a break in the crowd, she had sauntered over to him. Thinking that she would offer him a half-hearted congratulations, Rocco was surprised when Nico reached up and placed a gentle kiss on each of his cheeks._

" _Congratulations," Nico murmured, her lips curved into a wry smile. "Despite how things worked out for us, I'm happy for you, Rocco. Papa has a lot of faith in you and it's well-deserved. You are definitely the right man for the job. You've earned it," she said graciously._

_Surprised, Rocco smiled down at her. "Thank you, bella mia," he said quietly. "Coming from you, that means a lot."_

" _I know things haven't exactly been easy for us over the years and a lot of that had to do with me feeling protective of Dom and his place in the Syndicate. But believe it or not, I'm not the know-it-all I make myself out to be," she said with a chuckle and Rocco felt his breath catch in his throat._

_She really is fuckin' beautiful_ _, he thought as he watched her lick her bottom lip before continuing._

" _I was wrong about Dom. He's not ready to run the Syndicate and I don't think he ever will be. I see that now. After what happened to Papa, the family needs a strong leader and there's no doubt that you're that," Nico said, her eyes sparkling like sapphires with sincerity._

" _This has certainly turned into a night full of surprises," Rocco laughed quietly as he ran a hand over his strong chin. "Since you're being so candid with me, bella mia, I think it's time I let you know how much I appreciate how_ _you've stepped up in your father's absence. Not only have I been short on time and unable to handle a lot of the corporate shit, but we both know that I don't have the mind for it like you do. That situation involving the Casino, it was Jimmy who advised me to talk to you about it. We were able to clean up that pot of shit stew with the Nevada Gaming Commission with little fall out thanks to you. But is it really a surprise how well we work together in the boardroom? We sure never had a problem working well together in the bedroom, did we, baby?" he said suggestively, smiling as he saw a blush stain her cheeks pink._

" _No, we didn't," Nico_ _whispered as she leaned her body into him, placing a hand on his chest. Quite naturally, Rocco found his arm sliding around her slender waist anchoring her to his side. "Maybe we can work together again."_

_Seeing her eyes flashing seductively, Rocco felt his eyebrows reaching into his hairline. "What do you have in mind?"_

_In spite of her high heels, Nico still had to tip toe in order to whisper into his ear, "Meet me in the pool house in twenty and find out."_

_Nico pulled away from his embrace and Rocco watched as his ex-wife tossed her hair over her shoulders, gave him a saucy wink and walked off through the French doors, her ass swaying gently._

* * *

_It seems that in spite of the divorce, I still own that shit_ , Rocco thought smugly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

It had only taken the brief walk to the pool house for Rocco to come to the conclusion that his ex-wife was having second thoughts about her decision to kick his ass to the curb. Nico was nothing if not pragmatic when it came to the business. Now that he had been backed by the Syndicate, maybe she was realizing that insisting on getting a divorce had been, in retrospect, premature. With him leading the family, it would only be a matter of time before their son would be groomed to succeed him. With her father currently in prison and Rocco taking over, Nico would automatically be the most highly-ranked female in the organization.

 _That is, if she was still my wife_.

Rocco had to admit that in spite of being a woman, Nico was extremely intelligent and even though there would never be a place for her in the Syndicate itself, she could be useful to him in many ways. One way in particular he hadn't experienced in quite some time and in spite of all the bullshit between them, he couldn't deny that Nico Torelli was a great fuck. As much as he enjoyed being single again, making frequent trips to as many legal and illegal brothels as he could, Rocco couldn't deny that he still missed having that fine piece of ass warming his bed.

Hearing the sound of a door opening up, Rocco smiled as Nico came inside, her stole wrapped around her.

"Shit, it's cold out there," she shivered as she walked over to him. "I think the temperature has dropped at least another ten degrees."

"Then come over here and sit," he invited with a smile. "I'll warm you up." Rocco watched as she cocked her head at him, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she sauntered over.

"I don't know, Roc," Nico said with a raised eyebrow. "That's an awfully big couch. We might fall into some shit just for old time's sake."

"And what's wrong with that?" he said patting the soft white cushion next to him.

Nico tossed her stole on the opposite end of the couch, catching Rocco by surprise as she not only sat on the sofa next to him, but pressed herself snugly into his side. "Is this what you had in mind?" she purred.

"It's a start," he murmured as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Rocco watched as Nico lifted her downcast eyes to his. Struck by the soft expectation he saw in her blue orbs, he said gently, "What's all this about, bella mia?"

"I guess I'm feeling the need to confess," she admitted, biting her bottom lip.

"Confess what?"

Nico took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Seeing you taking Papa's place at the head table tonight and addressing the family as Don, it dawned on me just how things are going to change and made me realize that I want things to be different, not just for the family," she whispered as she bit her bottom lip, "but for us too."

 _Shit, I still got this_ , Rocco thought inwardly as he looked into her dark blue eyes that seemed to be imploring him.

"There's a lot of water under this bridge, Nico," Rocco started, his eyes drawn to her plump lips. "You think we can just pick up where we left off?"

"Better. We can start fresh," she whispered hopefully. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Reaching up, Nico placed her soft lips on his.

Moaning softly, Rocco took advantage of her parted lips and slipped his tongue inside. He mirrored Nico's languid and gentle movements before taking control and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Leaving her breathless, Rocco pulled away, letting his lips trail across Nico's cheek, into the crook of her neck and down to the valley of her ample cleavage. He heard her moan, her fingers tangling in his hair as he laved the tops of her breasts with his tongue.

Feeling his dick harden, Rocco muttered, "Merda," before pulling away and taking in his ex-wife's rosy complexion. "You're fuckin' serious." He watched as she nodded her head.

"I know this must seem like it's coming out of nowhere, Roc, but I've been having second thoughts," she admitted quietly. "It could be a new start for all three of us—you, me, Tonio. When we first married, I was young and headstrong and while we enjoyed an active sex life, there really wasn't much else between us other than our son. We're both older and wiser now. Professionally, we're where we've been working so hard for so long to get. Maybe—," Nico sighed as she placed her hand on his chest. "Maybe we can make shit work between us now. We don't have to rush into anything, just take it slow and see where it goes. What do you think?"

Having given quite a lot of thought to how he could use Nico in his efforts to solidify his place as the head of the family had been one thing. His dick swelling in his pants was another—a surprising reminder that things had always been good between them sexually and the possibility of it being good again might be just too much to pass up.

"I think that sounds like a really good idea." He watched as she smiled.

"Then let's celebrate," Nico suggested. Reaching over to a panel that sat on the coffee table, she pressed a button on it. A moment later, Rocco looked up as the pool house's double doors covered with long panels of white curtains opened to reveal a server wheeling in a large cart. On top of the cart sat a sterling silver ice bucket with a bottle of Champagne and two long stem glasses.

Standing up, Nico held her hand out to Rocco who took it in his and let her lead him to the cart. Picking up a white linen cloth to drape over his forearm, the server poured two flutes of Dom Perignon, handing one first to Nico and then to Rocco before quietly vacating the room, leaving the door partially ajar.

"To you, Rocco," Nico started with a smile. "You've done a brilliant job taking care of business in my father's absence. Appointing you as permanent head of the family was the next logical step. With Dom dreaming of being the next Michael Andretti, Papa believed you would be the key to protecting his legacy. We all did," Nico said as she raised her glass. "But not anymore, bastardo infido," she spit out, her tone suddenly dripping venom.

As her words slowly registered, Rocco felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his upper torso, securing him in a half Nelson while the other hand shoved a white linen cloth into his mouth. The glass of champagne he was holding slipped out of his hand and landed on the dark plush carpet as Rocco struggled to shake off his attacker. Unable to cry out, Rocco fought to keep his eye lids open as the pressure on his carotid artery caused his vision to blur and dim. Cursing himself for dismissing his security detail in lieu of a hook-up with his seemingly eager ex-wife, it was only now dawning on him what a colossal error in judgment that had been.

 _If Nico knows, I'm so fucked_ , was Rocco's last thought before he lost consciousness and slid bonelessly to the floor.

Walking over, Nico nudged her ex-husband's leg with her foot and saw that he was completely unresponsive. "Tell me you didn't kill him," she said to the man dressed in a server's uniform before stooping down to dig through Rocco's pockets.

"Nah, just choked him out. He should be out for a good fifteen minutes. Gives me just enough time to hog-tie him," Happy's gravelly voice replied as he looked at the man lying prone on the floor before raising his dark eyes to focus on Nico's bent form. "For a minute, I was starting to wonder if this shit was still a go," he said somewhat irritably.

"Why would you think that?" Nico asked as she stood up, a set of car keys dangling from a well-manicured finger.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe it was the massage your tongue was giving the bastard's throat that threw me off," Happy said gruffly.

"That was just a little window dressing, outlaw." Nico smiled as she noted his look of exasperation. "Roc's an experienced gangster who's accustomed to thinking at least ten moves ahead. The only way we were going to get him was by disrupting his thought process. What better way of accomplishing that than by draining the blood from his head down to his dick? Trust me, it wasn't for fun and there isn't enough of this shit in the world to wash the taste of him out of my mouth." She picked up her glass and drained it dry. "You want some? It's _really_ good," she offered playfully and bit the inside of her lip to stifle her laughter at the affronted look on Happy's face.

"I don't drink bubbly girlie shit."

"Your loss," Nico said coyly as she cocked her head at him and smiled. "I have to say, you don't look half bad in that get up. With some proper training, I'd bet you'd make an excellent sommelier," she said with a hint of snark.

"Bite me, Tiny. I don't even know what the fuck that is. 'Sides," Happy said, tugging at the tight collar that was pinching his neck. "I can't wait to get the fuck out of this shit."

"As much as I would love to help you do just that, I'll have to bite you later, killer," Nico teased, the tip of her pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip teasingly. "First, we have business to take care of."

Standing back, she watched as Happy's upper lip curled into what was unmistakably a growl before he moved the ice bucket onto a small table in the corner of the room. Handing Nico the white linen tablecloth that covered the cart, Happy opened its lid to reveal a large empty space inside. Lifting 190 lbs. of dead weight, Happy unceremoniously dumped the unconscious man into the cart and slammed the lid shut before draping it once again with the tablecloth.

"Jimmy will let me know once you've loaded him into the catering truck and we'll rendezvous in exactly ten minutes after you leave the estate," Nico reiterated the instructions they had gone over numerous times already.

"Just don't keep my ass waiting," Happy ordered.

"No, sir," Nico gave him a mock salute and watched Happy exit with his cargo the way he had come in.

Pouring herself another glass of Champagne, Nico felt her false bravado strengthen as she delicately drained the flute dry. Walking over to the couch to retrieve her stole, she wrapped it around her shoulders and headed towards the door.

This was sure to be the hardest thing the Syndicate would ever ask her to do, but Nico was determined to see it through nonetheless.

_Per la mia famiglia._

* * *

**Glossary** **:**

Merda: Shit.

Bastardo infido: treacherous bastard.

Per la mia famiglia: For my family.

**A/N: For those of you who would like a visual to compliment the written word, please check out my website—www.harleequinn.com—where you can check out the Torelli Estate, as well as pictures of the Torelli family, including Gianni, Rosanna, Nico, Dominic, Jimmy, and Rocco. I will continue update the website with visuals as the story progresses and other characters are introduced.**

**Hugs, Harlee.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada—Saturday, February 12, 2011** _

Glancing to his right, one of Happy's dark eyebrows shot up with dubious concern. Tucked into the SUV's passenger seat and huddled under her fur stole, Nico Torelli seemed at peace with the world as she dozed comfortably. Considering the events of the evening thus far, her relaxed demeanor seemed somewhat at odds with the task at hand, especially in light of where they were heading and what they would do once they got there. If he were honest with himself, it kind of unnerved Happy that Nico was calm and collected enough to be taking a fuckin' nap! For some reason, he had been expecting the sophisticated attorney to be losing her shit as well as her nerve right about now.

"But nope," Happy muttered under his breath, his eyes back on the road. "Here she is, sleeping like a fuckin' baby."

Earlier, with Nico following at a safe distance in her ex-husband's flashy sports car, Happy had used the catering truck to smuggle the newly-appointed Boss of the Torelli Syndicate off of the compound and to a private location several miles outside Reno's city limits. Once there, Happy transferred a heavily secured and still unconscious Rocco to the trunk of the SUV before making sure that both the catering truck and Rocco's Ferrari would remain hidden from view until their return. Now well on the way to their final destination, the traffic on the highway was blissfully light and Happy made sure to drive at the speed limit as he used the quiet time to reflect over the last few days.

With his dark eyes drawn once again to the small, yet feisty bitch cradled by the leather car seat next to him, Happy chuckled to himself as he heard her lightly snoring and realized just what an enigma Nico Torelli really was. Certain things, like how fuckin' sexy she was and what a smart-ass mouth she had were blatantly obvious from the moment they had met. Happy, however, couldn't lie about how surprised he had been to discover just how intelligent and savvy she was as well. Hearing Nico lay shit out for Jax had impressed him, not that anyone would have been able to tell by the stone face he had maintained during that first meeting.

Although it was somewhat unusual for the biker to find himself working under the direction of a woman, it seemed that Nico had a fair amount of outlaw experience as well. Even though most of her "suggestions" on how to handle the job were in reality thinly-veiled orders, it was clear that they were of like minds as Happy had already considered and strategized many of her "suggestions" _before_ his arrival in Reno. In spite of her refusal to share the details of any part of the plan not directly involving him, Happy was alright with Nico calling the shots. After all, he was working on her dime and, strangely enough, he trusted her judgment. As long as following her lead didn't wind up landing his ass in a Nevada prison for kidnapping and attempted murder, Happy had no problem taking orders from the Head-Bitch-in-Charge.

In light of his recent efforts to legitimize the Club, both Opie and Happy had been surprised when Jax decided to bring Nico's request for help in cleaning up a serious internal threat to the table for a vote. As Jax had predicted, Clay was quick to throw his hand up in favor of helping out the Syndicate based solely on his long-standing friendship with Jimmy Cacuzza—or so he claimed. In reality, even Happy could see the dollar signs spinning in the former President's steel gray eyes at the mention of the $250K payout the Club would be entitled to for what was essentially a one-man job. Of course, Jax had conveniently neglected to mention Nico's offer to help maneuver the Club toward legitimacy, an omission that led to Clay's quick acceptance of the offer, which in turn went a long way in convincing several brothers who had a problem with murder-for-hire to vote "yea" as well.

What had not been put up for a vote was Nico's request that Happy be tasked with the job, a fact that had Tig somewhat disgruntled, especially after hearing about Tiny's direct involvement in executing the plot. However, Jax made it quite clear that in spite of Nico's request, Happy was—in his mind—the only man for the job as it would require an insane amount of discretion, a term not in Tig's vocabulary. Next time the job required that someone roll up on a target and splatter their brains all over the fuckin' sidewalk in broad daylight, Jax promised, Tig would get the call.

Eschewing Jax's offer to help plot the logistics of the hit, Tiny's plan was to have Happy infiltrate a family event in order to give him access to their intended target. Getting him on the inside as a part of the wait staff provided by the company catering the event had been easy since Tiny had pretty much been her mother's go-to bitch during the planning stage of the event. His guise allowed Happy free reign of all the public areas inside as well as outside of the house. It also gave him the opportunity to not only observe his target, but see Nico Torelli in her element, surrounded by the family that meant so much to her that she was willing to kill for them.

Even though Nico had given him a detailed layout of her family's compound in advance, setting foot onto the Torelli estate for the first time had thrown Happy, a hardened outlaw biker, for a loop. Judging by the marble floors and ornate gold leaf decorating the high-vaulted ceilings and expensive furnishings, it was obvious that the Torelli family had no problem living the high life thanks to their ill-gotten gains. The fact that the Syndicate operated virtually free of any federal interference was a clear indicator that they put as much effort into laundering their dirty money as they did in making it.

 _Tony Soprano didn't have it this fuckin' good_ , Happy had thought as he made his way around the estate in his disguise.

The mansion—for there was no doubt in his mind that the Torelli home was indeed a mansion—excelled any significant wealth Happy had ever come across in his travels. In fact, all the movies and television shows he had ever seen had fallen way short in their portrayal of mob living when compared to the Torellis.

Ambling among the guests, serving some really tasty shit you would never find on a Ritz Cracker, Happy listened virtually unnoticed to the congenial chatter and laughter around him. No one seemed to be discussing anything remotely related to the "family business". Not even the table packed with swarthy-looking men in near identical dark suits discreetly hiding the bulge of shoulder holsters. Aside from switching flawlessly between English and Italian as they gestured wildly with their hands, these people seemed no different from any other family, including his own—both back in Bakersfield and in Charming. Take away the glitz and glamour of their surroundings and the gathering wasn't all that different from the family dinners Gemma was famous for.

Rolling his eyes as he tugged on the collared shirt under the fitted tuxedo-style jacket he had been forced to endure for hours, Happy was determined to set fire to the get-up the first chance he got. He was also looking forward to receiving his share of the $250K that Tiny had offered for this hit. However, once the job was finished and SAMCRO had received its payment, Happy was unsure whether or not Jax would take the mafia princess-slash-lawyer up on her offer to assist in the Club's "restructuring." More than likely, Jax was waiting to base his decision on whatever information Happy brought back to Charming about the Syndicate and Tiny.

This information had been much easier to cull only after Happy had finished his duties working the bar during cocktail hour. It was a good thing he had been spared the task of having to serve dinner as well. Not only did he need time to prep for the real reason he was there while others were too busy to notice his absence, but there were just some things Happy wasn't prepared to do to get the job done. He wasn't a fuckin' Prospect, for chrissakes!

 _Tiny Bitch is certainly a stunner_ , Happy thought as he watched her mingling with guests.

It seemed that the mob princess had many personas she to put on display for public consumption, including dutiful and loyal daughter representing her jailbird father; sexy bitch looking for dirty action in a seedy biker bar; leather-clad sexpot who had confidently walked into a lion's den to negotiate a peaceful resolution on her brother's behalf; and tough-as-nails businesswoman in need of some SAMCRO-style problem-solving in return for an offer that, in true mafia fashion, the Club might not be able to refuse.

In every situation, however, she remained the same—small, fierce and sexy as hell. The role Happy liked the best, however, was one his brothers had not had the good fortune of witnessing first hand: a dick-loving hot piece of ass who did her best work while riding his hard cock.

 _Something I need to experience for myself again, and soon_.

Watching as Nico made a move on her ex-husband, practically seducing him into a private meeting, had equally disgusted and fascinated Happy. In spite of the surge of jealous rage he felt coursing through his veins at the sight of Tiny in her ex's arms, Happy managed to convince himself that the sheer hatred he felt for Rocco Agnello came from the knowledge that he was the traitorous bastard that had ordered the hit on Nico's sick father. After all, in Happy's mind, turning on one's family was the ultimate act of betrayal. Although he never spoke about it, many years before Happy had participated in the elimination of a patch that had turned on his family, his brothers, and the Club.

Leaving the main ballroom, Happy had retrieved the cart and the champagne he had chilling in a side closet before heading to the pool house. Although it shouldn't have, watching Nico put the moves on her ex-husband had irked the shit out of him. Unobserved, Happy stood by the curtained doors and peered into the large, sunken living room, noting grumpily that either Tiny put her heart and soul into her work or she still got wet for her ex. Judging from appearances, Happy would have sworn that she was completely and deeply enthralled by their target as she thoroughly washed the back of his throat with her tongue.

With Tiny having made mention of the fact that she had a kid with the bastard, Happy was starting to question whether some feelings remained—at least on her part—in spite of the divorce. After all, they were about to get down to the nitty gritty and he needed to know whether or not Tiny was really up for the task that lay ahead.

As Happy pulled off the highway, he figured that in another ten minutes he would be finding out for sure.

* * *

The Truckee River was more like a stream that flowed in a northeasterly direction between the states of California and Nevada. Located about 15 miles north of the Reno-Tahoe International Airport, it was the next to final destination for the SUV that was carrying its three passengers approximately 20 miles south of the Torelli Compound.

Now wide awake after her little cat nap—a result of the two glasses of champagne she had downed on an empty stomach—Nico watched as Happy carefully maneuvered the SUV through the underbrush of the heavily wooded trail. The road was practically nonexistent, resembling a well-traveled dirt trail more than anything, which was difficult enough to navigate during the day and only worse in the near pitch dark.

"You couldn't find a more out of the way place for me to handle this shit, like Timbuktu, maybe?" Happy grunted as he guided the vehicle, its high beams an absolute necessity as the quarter moon wasn't giving much in the way of light.

"I took your request for absolute privacy to heart, Happy," Nico drawled. "There's no one for miles in every direction that could possibly hear a man scream. And if there was, they'd probably think it was a coyote anyway."

"It's a good thing I checked this shithole out earlier, or we'd never find it in the dark," he grumbled.

"I have complete faith in your abilities, Hap. We wouldn't be here if I didn't," she replied candidly.

And Nico meant it too. It was a trust that had steadily grown since Happy's arrival in Reno two days earlier to go over logistics. His meticulous planning and attention to detail only served to confirm her initial belief that he was the right man for the job. With her mother's constant demands a drain on her time as she did the final prep for the party, Nico never seemed to have enough time left over for anything but strategizing with Happy. As disappointing as that was for Nico, it didn't seem to faze Happy at all as he was 100% focused on the job at hand.

Finally pulling into a clearing in front of a long, low building, Nico straightened her shoulders. What was about to go down was something she never thought she'd have the stomach for, especially as her father kept that aspect of the business well-hidden from his wife and children. But as Gianni Torelli's most trusted confidante aside from Jimmy Cacuzza, Nico didn't have much of a choice. If she didn't have the stomach for it, she better develop one and quick between the SUV and the front door of the warehouse because shit needed handling.

"Stay here," Happy ordered as he parked the mid-sized sports utility vehicle near the entrance. Pulling a set of keys from his pocket, Happy made his way to the door, unlocked it and stepped inside.

Nico watched as a bright light suddenly flooded the inside and the doorway, and waited for Happy to return. "You can go in now."

She could clearly hear the rushing waters of the stream, along with the chirping of crickets and the movement of other nocturnal animals as she stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. "Thanks for turning on the lights," Nico said wryly as she walked around Happy.

"It's a long trip down to the ground from atop those ridiculous heels," he tossed over his shoulder as he made his way to the trunk of the SUV. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt on my watch, Tiny."

Rolling her eyes, Nico continued making her way inside the building which sat on five acres of land. The building and the land had once belonged to a former business associate who had cut the Syndicate out of a land deal Gianni himself had brokered several years before. In order to keep his head attached to his shoulders, the man had been forced to forfeit this property along with several others worth millions. Nico had chosen this site in particular because it was well off the beaten path and buried in a never-ending paper trail that served to hide its transfer of ownership to the Syndicate. As far as Nico was concerned, it was the perfect location for Happy to do his dirty work.

Walking around the large and open space, Nico took note of the effort Happy had put in setting up his work area to the specs he required and nodded with approval. Theplace of dishonor where Rocco would be interrogated looked cold and extremely uncomfortable. Stepping up to a folding table, Nico examined the unfurled leather roll with two rows of shiny surgical-looking instruments.

Hearing the door close behind her, Nico turned around to see Happy carrying a securely bound Rocco over his shoulders as if he weighed no more than a carpet remnant. Hitting the light switch on the wall as he entered, the room once again fell into darkness, the only light coming from an industrial floor lamp Happy had set up next to his work area.

"I see you take a lot of pride in your work," Nico said with respect.

"I do," Happy replied.

Before coming in, Happy had changed from the server's uniform into a pair of dark wash jeans, black t-shirt and black leather work boots. Over that, he wore a thick, rubber-looking apron, the kind line workers wore in fisheries in order to prevent fish guts from saturating their uniforms. He looked fierce and menacing, like some horrific medieval surgeon preparing his next cadaver for dissection as he lay Rocco down on a stone slab and got to work.

It seemed quite incongruous to her that the man whose hands had so expertly reduced her own body to a mass of quivering flesh was about to do the same to her ex, although under an entirely different set of circumstances with an entirely different outcome. Standing to the side, she watched as Happy stripped Rocco and prepared him for the worst ordeal of his life.

As he worked, Nico closed her eyes and silently prayed for the strength to do what had to be done. Murder was a mortal sin and although Nico wasn't overly religious, her strict Catholic upbringing was something that was hard to shake off. At the very least, killing another human being would bring bad karma on all those involved and, above all else, went against her nature.

Still, on some level, Nico had always known that if pushed to the extreme, she had the capacity to take a life. She had come to that realization the moment she had pushed her son into the world and held him tenderly in her arms. It was only then that Nico truly understood a mother's love and swore that she would do anything to protect her son and her family.

As an attorney, Nico had done much in the way of protecting her family over the years, using her brains and legal skills to continually push the legitimate side of the family business forward. She had also toed the line ethically while doing her best to protect the Syndicate's criminal enterprises from other non-friendly families as well as law enforcement. Tonight's venture, Nico reasoned, really wasn't any different. The death of a traitor, a usurper to the throne, was a part of the necessary order of business when it came to running a crime syndicate. Nevertheless, although she was only there to extract information, Nico knew that Rocco's blood—the blood of her son's father—would stain her hands as much as it would Happy's. More so hers because while being forever loyal to her father, she was responsible for denying Tonio a relationship with his.

Nico, however, refused to let guilt prevent her from doing what she had been tasked to do. After all, she couldn't be held responsible for the bad choices Rocco had made. As her Nonna would have said were she still alive, "Si raccoglie ciò che si semina."

With a grim face, Nico put a full stop to all sentimental musings when Happy spoke to her.

"I'm all set, Tiny. You ready?" he said, his dark tone echoing in the large space.

Nico braced herself by straightening her shoulders before turning to face him. "As I'll ever be," she replied staunchly.

Without another word, Happy pulled an ammonia capsule from the pocket of his apron and, placing it under Rocco's nose, cracked it open. As the pungent fumes permeated his nostrils, the bound man suddenly shook his head violently as he quickly regained consciousness. Inhaling deeply, Rocco began to cough violently.

"What—what the fuck?" he said hoarsely, his eyes wheeling about the room as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

Stretched out on a broken, slanted slab of concrete, Rocco slowly realized to his horror that he had been stripped naked as he shivered uncontrollably from the chill in the damp air. With arms and legs stretched to almost the breaking point and anchored firmly by ropes that were tied around hooks at each end of the slab, it was impossible for him to even attempt to free himself.

In the shadows of the long and cavernous room, Rocco could dimly make out walls of rough gray concrete. With crates and sacks stacked six feet high on pallets lining the walls, the room was dank and dismal, the only light coming from the glaring light bulb shining directly into his eyes and obscuring his vision. He could, however, hear movement and realized he wasn't alone.

"Who's there? Where the fuck am I?" he demanded loudly, his throat dry and scratchy.

"Don't matter who I am. Don't matter where you're at either," a dark, foreboding voice echoed out of the darkness.

"Look," Rocco swallowed the lump in his throat, and managed to speak with some authority. "You're right. Who you are doesn't matter, but where I come from _money talks_. Now, I don't know why my bitch of an ex-wife would have you kidnap me, but I'm willing to forget this shit ever happened and pay you double what she's paying you if you let me go."

"Can't do that," came the terse reply.

"And why the fuck not? You don't even know how high I'm willing to go," Rocco said heatedly. "Listen, I'm not looking to pull one over on ya, especially not when you have me over a barrel. I can fix it so that you'll never have to work again. Why give a fuck if you double-cross the bitch?"

Suddenly, Rocco heard the soft clicking of heels on the cement floor. As the light was moved away from his direct line of vision, he watched grimfaced as his ex-wife slowly made her way towards him, dragging a metal folding chair behind her.

"Because believe it or not, Rocco, men who honor their word still exist in our world," Nico drawled.

Turning the folding chair around, she sat down and crossed a leg over the other. "You are right about one thing though. I _am_ a bitch." She rolled her eyes to the left as she heard Happy's smothered laughter quickly morph into a fit of coughing. Without comment, she turned her attention back to her ex-husband. "And this bitch has you by the short and curlies."

"Maybe you wanna tell me the fuck WHY?!" Rocco shouted. "One minute you're all over me like some fuckin' whore and the next you're acting like some psycho scorned bitch! Is that what this is about? You finally getting back at me for fuckin' around on you all those years, huh? Well, get over it, hon, 'cause we're done. I wasn't even gonna fuck you anyways!"

Nico threw her head back and laughed. "I believe that like you believe you're going to walk out of here alive. Oh, wait, you _do_ believe that, don't you?" she asked before making a tsk-tsk sound. "I hate to disappoint you, Roc, but it seems that this ride we took out to the middle of nowhere is a one-way trip for you."

She watched as Rocco struggled in vain against the coarse rope binding his limbs, noting how it grated and tore against the exposed flesh. "You think you're gonna get away with this shit?! I don't care how much you think your shit don't stink, Nico! Being Gianni Torelli's daughter isn't gonna save you from this. I'm the Boss, the Don. You don't FUCK with me!" he growled.

"You should know me better than that, Roc," Nico started softly. "This isn't some rogue operation I've concocted to pay you back for your cheating ways. This isn't personal—well, yeah it is, but it's not personal between you and me. See, I only ever do what I'm asked to do in the best interest of the family. We're here because my father, the _true_ Don of this family sanctioned your death himself," she stated and grinned fiercely as her calmly spoken words turned Rocco's features pale.

"You're making a mistake, Nico," Rocco tried a new tact by reasoning with his ex-wife. "Why would Johnny T want me dead? He's treated me like a son for almost twenty years—"

Nico nodded in agreement. "He _has_ been like a father to you, Roc. Over the years, Papa has shown you more favor than he has his own son and you've become a very rich man because of it," she noted. "But rich men always want more and you got greedy. You put a hit out on my father and he almost died in prison like some filthy animal."

"Nico, that's not true," Rocco pleaded. "Baby—"

"Don't you fucking call me 'baby'!" Nico yelled as she jumped up from her chair, tipping it back until it fell with a resounding clatter on the cement floor. "Has all that blow you've inhaled over the years riddled your brain with holes? We're not here—YOU'RE not tied to that concrete slab because we 'suspect' that you orchestrated the attack that almost killed my father. We fucking KNOW, Rocco! This here is retribution for double-crossing Gianni Torelli and the family and as such, you won't be getting a quick, clean death. A bullet to the back of the head for attempting and _failing_ to assassinate the Don is too fucking good for you. I'm here to make sure you suffer before I report back to my father on your awesomely gruesome and excruciatingly painful death," she said coldly as she brought her anger under control and watched the fear and panic bloom in Rocco's blue eyes.

"Nico," Rocco started, his voice cracking. "Nico, please, you're a lawyer—a fuckin' lawyer for chrissakes! Where's my due process, huh? I don't get the chance to defend myself? Why? Is this some conspiracy to make sure Dominic becomes the next head of the family?"

"Don't be an asshole, Rocco. I've already done my due process. I take pride in what I do. I don't half-ass my work, but apparently it seems that you do," Nico declared pointedly. "It's no secret—to me anyway—that you love slumming with your druggie whores and their hustling pimps. A good time is a good time, right?" she shrugged her shoulders. "Your mistake, however, was farming out a contract hit on my father to one of those low-life degenerates."

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKIN' ABOUT, NICO?!" Rocco bellowed.

Nico shook her head as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Rocco, you're making a huge mistake if you think playing dumb is somehow going to spare you. All you're doing is wasting precious breath that's in short supply considering you'll be dead soon and my time, which is too valuable a commodity for me to waste on the likes of you," Nico stated matter-of-fact. "My friend back there," she gestured over her shoulder, "and I are not here to get a confession out of you. The Warden at Ely, an old family friend, was able to get a 'death bed' confession from the tweaker that shivved my father. Now, the tweaker didn't name you, per se, but he did give up his baby mama who just so happens to work for a pimp friend of yours from Vegas. With his balls _literally_ on the chopping block, that so-called friend of yours gave you up."

"A pimp?! That's your fuckin' source and you believe him?!" Rocco was apoplectic.

Nico shrugged her shoulders. "Why not? He had no reason to lie. He knew he was going to die anyway. All we had to do was promise to spare his mother back in Nebraska the same fate if he told us the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"You're insane, Nico," Rocco nearly blubbered. "This is just some plot to get me out of the way. Who's in on it with ya, huh? Your Uncle Jimmy? Dom in on it too 'cause I can't, I _won't_ believe that Gianni sanctioned this shit! He knows that I love him like he was my own fuckin' blood!"

At that, Nico practically ran towards him, slamming her balled up fist into his mouth and splitting his lip wide open.

"Don't you ever talk shit to me about your love for my father!" she spit out before cutting loose with a litany of curses in a mix of English and Italian as she continued hurling punches on Rocco's face and body.

From the side lines, Happy watched with quiet approval before deciding to put a stop to the substantial damage the petite woman was doing. Striding towards her, he gently pulled her away. "Leave that sack of shit to me," he said softly. "No need for you to bruise up your hands on that fucker."

Wincing with pain and anger as blood dripped down his face, Rocco directed his next words at the familiar looking man who had an arm wrapped around his ex-wife's shoulders. "What, you think she's gonna fuck you when this shit's all over? You're wasting your time, my friend. Not only is Nicoletta Torelli above your pay grade, but her pussy's cold as ice."

Instead of getting the reaction he was expecting, Rocco watched in shocked disbelief as Nico slipped her arms around the bald-headed man's waist. "Do you think my pussy's cold as ice, killer?" she pouted prettily.

"Fuck no!" Happy readily exclaimed. "That shit's warm and tight. Tastes just like a ripe fuckin' peach too."

"Awww, isn't he sweet?" Nico cocked her head as she looked up at Happy with gooey eyes before turning her gaze back to Rocco. "Guess that shit was only cold for you, Roc, not someone who can lay that pipe just right, day in and day out," she grinned saucily, letting out a girly yelp followed by a giggle as Happy slapped a heavy hand on a plump ass cheek, kneading it fondly.

"You must got a limp dick letting this fine piece of ass get away," Happy smirked arrogantly. "Don't worry, though. I'm taking real good care of that shit for you." As the helpless and angry man fought against the restraints tethering him to Happy's make-shift work table, the outlaw bent down and possessively took Nico's mouth with his own.

"You're a fuckin' whore!" Rocco yelled hoarsely.

Tenderly stroking Happy's face, Nico finally pulled away and turned to face Rocco. She heard Happy pick up and steady the chair for her as she sat down again. "It has to sting an arrogant piece of shit like you, right? The fact that I'd rather be his whore than your wife?" she chuckled softly, crossing one leg over the other. "The truth is, Roc, you're not worthy of licking the bottom of his fucking boots. See, the only difference between you and him that matters to me is that he's loyal, to his family as well as his associates. That's why I personally chose him to do the job. After I fucked him, of course."

"I thought I had seen everything." Rocco moved his head from side to side. "Never thought I'd live to see Gianni Torelli whore his own little princess out to do his dirty work from inside prison."

Instead of flying off the handle again, Nico just smiled as she shrugged her shoulders. "Sticks and stones, Rocco. And for the record, your opinion of me never, _ever_ mattered," she replied nonchalantly. "What I'm sitting here trying to figure out is _why_. Why risk everything to take over a business that would have been yours anyway if you had just remained loyal?" Nico shook her head. "I guess it doesn't matter now, does it? We'll just chalk it up to pure greed, plain and simple."

Nico sighed and briefly massaged her temple to alleviate the pressure. Turning in her chair, she looked up at Happy. "I think it's time you get started. It's destined to be a long night, so the sooner we wrap this up the better."

As Rocco lay helpless, he watched as the tall man came from behind Nico. It finally dawned on him that the bald-headed man was the server who had brought the Champagne to the pool house to celebrate what he thought had been his ascension to the top of the Torelli Syndicate.

A celebration that Rocco had realized was short-lived even before the man picked up a long, sharp tool and made his way towards him.

* * *

Rocco was unsure how much longer he could withstand the pain. The last thirty minutes might as well have been thirty years as the formidable man wielded his instruments of torture against him. With his throat already bloody and raw from screaming, all Rocco was capable of was whimpering in agony as his bitch of an ex-wife sat stone cold and relentless.

 _No questions_ , he thought dismally. _Just straight out torture_.

Finally, the tall, tattooed man took a break from dishing out his brutality and Rocco turned his head to plead with Nico with teary eyes.

"Please, please stop this, Nico," he begged. "You can stop this, I know you can. What can I do to make you stop this, please?"

"I'm surprised it took you this long to ask," Nico replied softly. "It's quite simple, really. Just tell me _everything_."

"Then I confess already, all right? I did it. I set up the hit," he moaned in defeat. "But you can't kill me, Nico. Think of our son. Think of Tonio."

Nico smirked. "As much as I appreciate your confession, as I told you earlier, it's not necessary. Your death is a done deal, Roc. Now whether or not our son learns the truth of your disgraceful downfall, well that depends on you. Give me the names of everyone involved and I'll take to my own grave the fact that you tried to kill Tonio's grandfather."

"It's always about your father, ain't it?" Rocco licked his dry lips. "Do you really care so little about how my death will affect our son? That he will grow up without a father?" he pleaded.

Nico's expression softened momentarily before settling back into hardened lines. "There's no doubt it will be painful for him. In fact, Tonio may never get over your death, I know this," she said solemnly. "But as much as that hurts me as his mother, it is what it is and I have to accept it. There's a price to pay for being a part of this family and that price in unwavering loyalty. No one gets a pass, Rocco. Our son is strong. It'll hurt, but he'll survive your passing."

"How do you think he'll survive if he ever finds out you made sure I wouldn't get a pass?" he asked bitterly as he coughed weakly.

"Aside from my father and Uncle Jimmy, only three other people know what's happening here tonight," Nico stated. "And of those three, one won't be alive by sunrise, so I'll take my chances with those odds and bet that Tonio will never find out."

"You're a cold-hearted bitch, you know that?" Rocco spit out.

"I do know that, but strangely enough, my conscience is clear." Nico crossed her leg casually. "Let's talk about your conscience, Rocco. There's no need for you to suffer retribution alone."

"What are you talking about?"

"You shared way too fucking much with that pimp friend of yours. I know you had support in this and that support came from within the Syndicate," Nico stated, much to Rocco's surprise. "Just give me their names and I'll have my friend here end this shit with a lot less pain."

Lying on the broken slab of concrete, Rocco was out of his mind with the pain. He had no idea where Nico had stumbled on the fucker, but her executioner-for-hire was turning his life into a living hell with very little effort on his part. As he looked into the cold blue eyes of his ex-wife, Rocco knew that there was no way he was talking his way out of there alive. He had foolishly gambled on a hostile takeover of his father-in-law's holdings. Rocco had known all along what the price would be for betting against the house and Nico was right—the crazy fuckin' bitch! He shouldn't go down alone. There was no sense in praying for a quick death when all he had to do was give her what she wanted in return for some compassion.

"Promise me he'll make it quick, Nico," Rocco pleaded.

With her jaw set tight, Nico nodded. "You have my word, Roc."

With tears, snot and blood running down his face, Rocco hoarsely whispered the names of his co-conspirators, two of the four captains he had under his command and their soldiers under them.

"Is that all of them?" Nico demanded quietly. "Just the two?"

 _No_ , Rocco thought grimly, but he could never tell her the whole truth.

During these last few moments, Rocco had made peace with himself and was resolved to suffer whatever Nico had in store for him if she chose not to believe him. His partner in the unsuccessful coup was also a man who did not suffer disloyalty lightly. Getting the old wily bastard to pull the necessary strings to facilitate the assassination of Gianni Torelli had come with a steep price. Rocco had to bear the brunt of the price tag on his own, which made moving money around a necessity. He should have known that Nico would have sniffed out the paper trail that led back to him.

Although the agreement between Rocco and his partner was to takeover the family jointly, splitting it 50-50 and bringing an end to the Syndicate, Rocco knew that throwing his ally's name at Nico's feet would come at a much higher price than just his own life. His life as he knew it was over; there was nothing he could do to stop it and his partner couldn't kill him twice.

 _But he could kill Tonio_ , Rocco thought, bitterly regretting the deal he had made with the devil.

As far as fathers went, Rocco knew that he would never be remembered as the World's Greatest Dad. Living the sort of life he had, it was expected that certain things would fall by the wayside and for Rocco that had been his wife and son. He knew Nico had never really loved him and the feeling was mutual—although the sex was decent, at least for him—but he did love his son.

Once his partner had committed his support to taking over the family by any means necessary, the old bastard made it clear that even though they would share in the spoils, if shit went south, Rocco was on his own. Turn rat and he stood to lose more than just his own life. He'd lose his legacy.

_Tonio is such a handsome and smart young man. It would be such a waste if he died before he really got the chance to live solely because his father's a weak piece of shit._

Clearly a threat, Rocco was quick to assure him that their alliance was a secret he would protect with his life. Now it seemed was the time to make good on that promise. Already considered a traitor, the least he could do was give his life to protect his son's. So as Nico stared into his eyes, Rocco Agnello told his last lie.

"There's no one else," he muttered, dejected and defeated. "I swear."

Rocco watched as Nico stared at him for a long time. Coming to a final determination, she stood up and walked towards him.

"Our son will get the chance to see his father properly buried. I hope knowing that at least gives you a small measure of comfort," Nico said quietly. "And he'll never know the truth of what you did," she promised.

Finally nodding to Happy, Nico stepped aside as the biker approached her former husband, his gloved hand holding a large bowie knife. As he held it high above his head, Rocco screamed an incoherent prayer for God to take mercy on his soul, or something to that extent. Unflinching, Nico watched the blade penetrate Rocco's chest as it imbedded itself dead center of his black heart.

* * *

"Tiny, are you outta your fuckin' mind?" Happy growled.

"Uh, how many times do I have to tell you my name is _not_ Tiny?" Nico shot back, her arms folded over her chest as she glared up him, the silvery moonlight barely illuminating his dark features.

"Grow a couple of inches and I'll consider it," he countered.

"Ha, ha," she replied sarcastically. "You're so funny. Now can we put paid to this whole scenario and get on with our lives?"

It was nearly 11:00 p.m. Leaning against Rocco's car, Nico was barely able to make out the features of her accomplice. It had taken them thirty minutes to make their way from Truckee River to this stretch of deserted road with her driving Rocco's car and Happy following in a stolen van. Nico had spent a considerable amount of time picking out the precise spot for this part of the plan and now that the worst of their mission had been accomplished, she was looking forward to finally closing the book on one Rocco Agnello.

"You wanna explain to me why you dragged my ass all the way out here?" Happy asked interrupting her train of thought.

"We need to run this shit off the road," she said, indicating the Ferrari with a tilt of her head. A sudden gust of wind whipped through her hair and rustled the trees behind her.

Happy crossed his arms. "Let me guess, some more of your window dressing."

"That's right, big fella," Nico smiled. "We have to stage a scene, complete with a set of tire tracks that will support my story, just in case the cops feel the need to investigate thoroughly."

"Care to share what that story is?"

"Well," Nico started and sniffed as she let her eyes demurely fall to the ground. "We were on the way to Rocco's house for a 'private' discussion, you understand, when suddenly a van came out of nowhere, ramming us from behind," she said with no little feeling as if on the verge of tears. "Rocco lost control and slammed into a tree. I must have been knocked unconscious because the next thing I know, I opened my eyes and Rocco was gone."

Shaking his head, Happy let out a gruff chuckle. "You're fuckin' nuts."

"That's neither here nor there," Nico replied, suddenly sober. "Now, I picked this road because not only is it a quick drive from my parent's to Rocco's but there's usually no traffic at this time at night," she explained. "That and there's a big ass tree at the end of the road that will do nicely for the crash site."

Pushing herself away from the car, Nico was about to jump into the driver's seat when Happy grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Whoa? What are you doin'?"

"I just told you," Nico said with exasperation. "I'm driving this here car into that there tree."

"No, you're not," Happy stated firmly as he unceremoniously pushed her out of the way. "I told you, you're not getting hurt on my watch. I'll handle this."

"Hap, I know what I'm doing," she said petulantly. "Who do you think taught Dom how to drive?"

"I don't give a fuck, brat," Happy retorted. "You ain't doing this. Now give me the fuckin' keys."

"Are you serious?" Nico huffed exasperated.

"Do I look like I'm fuckin' joking?" Happy deadpanned with a beastly frown furrowing his handsome brow. "Give me the damn keys and go sit your ass in the van."

Muttering to herself in Italian as she rolled her eyes, Nico dropped the keys in Happy's gloved palm and watched as he pulled the door open and got inside the sports car.

"Misogynist asshole," she tossed over her shoulder as she scuttled over to the van on her ice pick heels. Climbing into the driver's seat, Nico slammed the door. Rubbing her hands together in an effort to keep them warm, she watched as Happy slowly pulled off before gathering speed, the rear lights gleaming brightly.

The sound of the Ferrari hitting the tree was loud and somewhat terrifying. "Shit," she muttered, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hope he's all right."

Several minutes passed in eerie silence, feeding into Nico's apprehension. Turning the key in the ignition, she hit the high beams button and muffled a shriek as Happy suddenly came into view right in front of the van.

Throwing the door open, she jumped out of the vehicle. "Damn it, Hap! What took you so long? I thought—" Nico stopped abruptly, causing a smirk to spread over Happy's face.

"You thought what, Tiny? That sumpthin' bad happened to me?" he said with a leer. "You taking a shine to me already?"

"Don't get your hopes up," she fired back even as something akin to relief made her stomach flutter. "So how does the car look?"

"Like it hit a fuckin' tree," Happy snarked. "Why you worrying? I know what I'm doing. Now get your ass back inside," he ordered and pulled open the driver side door. "And make it quick."

Grumbling audibly, Nico did as she was told with barely enough time to slide over to the passenger seat before Happy hopped in right behind her and cranked up the engine.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"A little late in the game to be losing faith in me, don'tcha think, Tiny?" he replied as he gunned the motor. "I know how to handle my shit."

 _It would seem that he did_ , Nico thought as he barreled down the narrow two-lane road. On the wrong side of the road, as if he were parallel to another vehicle, he suddenly hit the brakes and wrenched the steering wheel to the right. The screeching van came to a stop slanted diagonally across the road.

Jostled in her seat, it took a moment for Nico to focus her eyes on the smoking wreck that was Rocco's car now illuminated by the van's headlights. The silver Ferrari had taken most of the impact on the front of the car with the driver's side having suffered the most damage. The passenger side was cocked off to the side, its door wide open.

"How I do?" Happy asked, his voice hinting at a smile as he watched Nico get out of the van. Without a reply, she walked over to survey the wreckage using the van's headlights to guide her way. Getting out of the van, Happy followed behind her.

She turned to face him. "I'd say pretty damn spectacular, killer. I don't think Dom could have done any better," Nico admitted as she turned back to gaze at the car. "Rocco loved that car. He'd be so fucking pissed right now," she grinned. "Now, all that's left is putting some finishing touches to the narrative and your job here is done."

_Mine, on the other hand, is just beginning._

"And what would those be?" Happy asked as he watched Nico reach into the wreck to pull out her clutch.

"This," she replied as she pulled out her cell phone and handed it to him. "I need you to destroy and dump this shit somewhere it won't be found. I already removed the battery so there's no way to track where I've been tonight using cell phone records."

"A'ight," he replied and took the phone from her and pocketed it.

"Good. Now, all I need you to do is hit me," she stated nonchalantly.

For a moment, Happy thought he had heard wrong. "What did you say?" he asked guardedly.

"You heard me. I need to look like I've been in a car that hit a tree," she retorted and rolled her eyes as she saw that for the first time that evening she had really shocked the outspoken biker. "Oh come on, Hap. You trying to tell me you've never hit a woman before?" she jeered.

"I've hit plenty of people in my life, including one or two pushy, pain-in-the-ass broads, but this is the first time some crazy bitch has ever requested it," Happy retorted.

"I find that hard to believe, considering how rough you like it in the sack," Nico smirked. "But if that truly is the case, get over it, killer," she said strongly and sighed as she took note of the look of sheer stubbornness settle on Happy's face. "Look, I've got to sell this shit to the police _and_ my family. Me turning up without a mark while my ex gets kidnapped and whacked is not going to fly."

For a moment, there was silence. "You really gonna take a shot to the face?" he said almost gently.

"It's for _my family_. Wouldn't you? Why am I even asking? I _know_ you would," Nico snorted. "Now stop stalling. It's a miracle we've been out here this long with nobody on the road. Just do it. C'mon, ya pussy! Hit me!"

Flashing her a fierce scowl, Happy noted the determined look on her face and decided to capitulate. "Any preference as far as location?" he asked quietly.

"Dealer's choice," Nico replied as she eyed him. "Just make it count."

 _Tiny and tough_ , Happy thought with unwilling admiration as he flexed the muscles in his fingers. Seeing the unwavering glint in her eye, Happy squared his shoulders. Grabbing her by her right arm, he figured the quicker it was done the better, so without hesitation, he slammed his huge fist into her jaw.

Nico's head snapped back and she saw stars in her eyes that were brighter than the ones in the black sky overhead. "Holy shit, you cock-sucking motherfucker!" she swore profusely as her body rocked from the impact, her knees sagging and her legs almost giving out underneath her.

Happy swore under his breath, grimly keeping her upright as the small woman tried to get her bearings. "You a'ight?"

"No! Of course I'm not all right!" Nico sputtered. "You have a powerful right jab there." She used her free hand to gingerly feel her lower face. It was already starting to swell, but it wasn't enough. Not by a long shot. "Again," she ordered.

"Aw, hell's no, Tiny."

"I said again, damn it. I need some blood splatter, so aim for the mouth area. Just don't knock any teeth out and DON'T break my nose."

"You're a fuckin' psycho," he declared.

"A point you've already established," she sighed. "Look, just one more, Hap. I promise."

Waiting for a response, the last thing Nico saw was a fist covered in black leather coming her way.

* * *

Nico came to and found herself stretched out in the dirt on the side of the road, the drip of something thick and warm trailing down her chin. She smiled crookedly, savoring the coppery taste of her own blood.

"Now that's how you do that shit, tiger," she said with a slight lisp as she looked up into the concerned face of the man squatting over her.

"Goddamn it, Tiny. You are one twisted and fucked up bitch."

Nico glared at Happy. "I thought I told you to stop calling me bitch."

"I just popped you twice in the fuckin' face and _that's_ what you have a problem with?" Happy exclaimed with exasperation.

"That shit was necessary. Name-calling is not," Nico muttered as she suddenly found herself in a sitting position as the biker pulled her upright. Nico swiped at the blood that was trickling freely from both her nose and split lip. "I think this might work. Maybe I should have a knot on my head too, you know, from the impact of hitting the tree. I could slam my head against the hood of the van, since you seem so reluctant—"

"Enough, a'ight?" Happy growled. "You look a fuckin' mess. Put on an act like you did back at the pool house and you'll sell the shit out of your story," he said as he took in the once-immaculate designer dress that was now wrinkled and matted with dirt and blood stains. Standing up, he helped her to her feet. "Come on, let's get the fuck outta here."

Sweeping her up into his arms, Happy carried her to the van. Settling her into the passenger seat, he trotted around the front end and hopped in, quickly pulling off down the road. "Where to?"

"Stay on this road. In about a mile, you'll come to a fork. I'll get out there and walk the quarter-mile to Rocco's place in Madison Woods," Nico replied. "It's a gated community with a 24-hour guard tower at the entrance. I'll get someone to call the police and take it from there."

"I don't like the thought of leaving you at the side of the fuckin' road alone," Happy grumbled. "Especially after the two shots you took to the face."

"I appreciate the concern," Nico smiled at Happy, flashing blood-stained teeth. "I'll be fine. I want you and this van as far away as possible before the cops show up. Besides, you have a long road trip ahead of you. If all goes according to plan, Rocco's body should be found before next night fall."

Happy smirked and shook his head, his eyes focused on the dark road. "Seems to me like your ex picked the wrong bitch to fuck with."

"Seeing as that sounds like a compliment, I'll excuse you for calling me a 'bitch' again," Nico chuckled as she swiped at the blood on her chin. "You really came through for me, Hap," she said soberly. "I really appreciate what you've done."

"It's all part of the service provided by SAMCRO," he replied, slowly pulling to a stop as the promised fork came into sight.

"Part of the service or not, you did real good tonight, killer. I owe you a big debt," Nico said sincerely. "Maybe by the time we see each other again I can come up with a way to repay you," she offered, a knowing little smile turning up the corner of her mouth. Happy couldn't help but chuckle as she winced and swore.

"I can think of at least six different ways right now, Tiny," Happy replied, an eyebrow arched lecherously. "So yeah, I'll take an IOU on that shit for later." He reached across her lap and popped open her door. "Need help getting out?"

"It's all good, outlaw," Nico replied casually as she eased her way out of the car. Pulling out her stole, she tut-tutted at its condition as it had, unfortunately, hit the dirt when she had. "Ma's gonna freak when she sees this."

"Shouldn't she worry about the condition you're in and not some piece of rat fur?" Happy asked gruffly.

"Have you met my mother?" she replied wryly as she wrapped the stole around her shoulders before slamming the door shut. "And for your information, this 'rat fur' is _chinchilla_." She watched as the outlaw swallowed what was more than likely laughter. "I'll be in touch," Nico said through the window before turning away to slowly walk down the road, her only saving grace the intermittent street lights illuminating her path.

 _Tiny Bitch thought about everything_ , Happy surmised. He sat and watched as her small form finally disappeared from view before shifting into drive and turning in the opposite direction.

Tonight had certainly been a lot more interesting than he had expected. Working over that piece of shit who had betrayed his own family had brought him a lot of satisfaction. In spite of their differences, the Torelli's were a lot like his dysfunctional family of outlaw bikers. Loyalty, solidarity and protecting one's family at all costs was a strictly held code of honor both families shared.

' _Sides, it felt good getting dirty again_ , Happy thought. Having Tiny ride shotgun had made it an even better experience.

"I like her," Happy admitted to himself and to his no-longer-living passenger in the back. "Like a lot."

Happy reached into the pocket of his hoodie and checked the time on his prepay. If he put a foot on it, it wouldn't take him too long to get to the location of the drop. If all went well, he should be back in Charming in a couple of days.

Deciding to focus on the job ahead, Happy lingered on having Tiny and her delectable body in his debt for just another moment and grinned fiercely. He didn't know when or where, but there was one thing he knew for damn sure.

 _That is one IOU I definitely intend on cashing in_.

* * *

 **Glossary** :

La mia famiglia: my family

Nonna: grandmother

Si raccoglie ciò che si semina: You reap what you sow.


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

 

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Tuesday, March 8, 2011** _

Save for the Prospect shuffling a broom around the bar half-heartedly, the Clubhouse was deathly quiet. It would have surprised no one that the main room was practically a ghost town as it was barely pushing 7:00 in the morning. Bobby Munson looked forward to enjoying these quiet moments to himself early in the day before the garage opened and the denizens of Casa SAMCRO started emerging from their lairs. Instead of enjoying a cup of coffee and a slice of some freshly baked banana bread as he had planned, however, Bobby was sitting in companionable silence with the Club's medic at one of the tables she had moved under one of the overhead lighting fixtures.

"Marley-girl, you really didn't have to come see about me," Bobby said as he eyed the young woman who was bent over his hand, an open first-aid kit sitting beside her on the small table. "Ratboy shouldn't have called you. He coulda fixed me up just fine."

"Nonsense, Bobby. When one of my boys gets hurt on my watch, you know I have to step up. Otherwise, how am I gonna earn that big fat fee SAMCRO pays me for keeping a medic on retainer?" Marlowe grinned as she carefully wrapped sterile gauze around the palm of his hand. "That and Gem would have my guts for garters if I was derelict in my duty as an old lady."

Bobby chuckled. "I never thought I'd see  _you_  toeing the line with Mother Superior. You ain't in the Navy no more, Doc. It's okay to rebel against authority around here every once in a while. As a matter of fact, we encourage it."

"Yes, I'm well aware of the Club's stance on authority figures," Marlowe said with a laugh. "And trust, I give as good as I get, but I was planning on dropping by the Clubhouse before work anyway. Hope you learned your lesson, though. Kitchen towels and potholders are not interchangeable," she scolded lightly.

"Shit, learned that the hard way too. Busted up a perfectly good loaf of banana bread when the pan hit the floor," Bobby lamented.

"Well, I'll pick up some potholders for you from the dollar store in Lodi and drop them off later," Marlowe offered.

"Thanks, sweetheart. You're too good to me," Bobby smiled. "What would I do without ya?"

"It's no big deal, Bobby. 'Sides, can't have you going around dropping delicious baked goods willy-nilly. I'll be damned if I wasn't tempted to eat that yummy-looking loaf right off the Clubhouse floor."

Bobby threw his scruffy head back and laughed heartily as Marlowe put the finishing touches on his dressing.

"There, all done," she announced cheerfully as she smoothed out the adhesive securing the bandage. Pulling off her surgical gloves, Marlowe made quick work of cleaning up her makeshift triage area. "I'm leaving enough supplies here for you to change the dressing twice a day, so if I'm not around, get Chibs to help you out, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bobby replied before giving her a grateful buss on the cheek. "So if you didn't drop by just for little ol' me, what other reason convinced your old man to let you out of his bed so early in the morning, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Just doing right by another one of my boys," Marlowe replied. "I made some more salve for Clay's arthritis and according to Gemma, he bunked here last night. Just wanted to drop it off on my way to work."

"You're a good girl, Marley," Bobby smiled. "Take a peek in your old room. If he ain't there, he's most likely in the gym."

With the small first-aid kit tucked under her arm, Marlowe dropped a quick kiss on top of Bobby's shaggy head before trotting behind the bar to store the kit in its rightful place. Making her way down the corridor towards the dorms, she could hear noises indicating that she would likely find Clay in the gym even before she turned the corner.

Leaning against the open doorway, Marlowe watched as Clay sat straddling a low bench, a set of ten pound weights gripped in his hands as he did a slow set to warm up his muscles as she had suggested so many months ago. It was evident that the physical therapy regimen she had developed for him, combined with cortisone shots and her Tia's home remedy, had greatly increased the dexterity while relieving the pain in the hands of SAMCRO's former president.

"Hey, stranger," she called out softly and watched as with a jerk, Clay lifted his large head to focus on her.

"Hey, Doc!" he called out surprised. "I thought geezers like me and Bobby Elvis were the only ones who get up with the chickens around here. What brings you 'round so early?"

"Just some light patch-up duty," Marlowe responded as she sauntered into the room. "Bobby burned his hand while baking this morning."

"Shit, he all right?"

"Yeah, it looks pretty minor, but I'll keep an eye on it. I also come bearing gifts." Sliding her hand into her backpack, Marlowe pulled out a small jar. Clay was already reaching for it before she could make the offer.

"Hey, you made the good stuff!" Clay said with a broad smile. He unscrewed the top and took a whiff, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head. "Still smells like shit, but it's worth its weight in gold. Thanks, Doc. I was almost out."

"So it's still working for you?" she asked.

Clay bobbed his head up and down. "You have no idea what a huge difference this stuff has made. I'm down to about once a week, but it's been more than enough to keep my hands loose and limber and virtually pain-free. I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Doc." Patting the bench next to him, Clay grinned. "Sit down and take a load off for a minute. It's been a while since we've had a little chat."

Marlowe shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, I got a minute before I have to hit the road." Straddling the bench so that she faced him, she placed her backpack between them, crossing her arms and leaning against it. "So what's up? You finally considering having the surgery? It's not a bad idea, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. I have, actually, but that's not why I want to talk, Doc," he replied before focusing steel blue eyes on her heather gray ones. "It's about Jax."

* * *

Chucky  _loved_  going undercover for the Sons. It wasn't often that he was called upon to do so, but he always felt like an honorary member any time the Club needed him to help out. A brother without a kutte and who tooled around Charming on a powder blue Vespa instead of a Harley.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was considered something of an oddity and looked upon through suspicious eyes by most of the townsfolk in Charming. That didn't matter to Chucky, however, as he believed that his worth as a human being came from his close ties to the Sons of Anarchy. Although a reasonable person could argue that he had been maimed and disfigured thanks to the Sons, Chucky believed that the only reason he was still alive when Henry Lin had wanted him dead was because of SAMCRO.

In what many in the Club considered a rare act of humanitarian kindness on his part, Tig Trager had taken pity on him and had liberated Chucky from the Chinese by overriding Clay's decision to leave his fate in Lin's hands. He would forever be indebted to Tig—and the Sons by extension. Had Tig not stepped up, his next stop would have been one of Lin's Oakland restaurants as the main ingredient in  _Kung Pao Chucky_.

Instead, he had spent the last couple of years blissfully employed by the Club as their general dogsbody, a position he was extremely appreciative for, especially since it gave him "associate" status in the Clubhouse, marking him as more than just a regular hang-around. Although Chucky knew he could never be an actual member of the MC, his loyalty to them ran deep nonetheless.

Now, as he stood in the circle of men and one woman looking down at the large mass of what could have been classified as a large mammal other than human, Chucky swung the remaining blue gift bags from his faux hands, the contents of which he would have to trash.

_Such a shame, too. Bobby makes some really great fudge._

Checking back into the conversation going on around him, Chucky focused on the group surrounding the obese man lying on the floor of the Insurance Office of Allen Biacone in downtown Charming. His eyes were bouncing back and forth as he tried to keep up with what was going on as the small blonde wailed at Jax Teller while gesturing wildly at the man on the ground.

"You have got to be kidding me! You're not fuckin' serious about this, are you?" Ima Tite nearly screeched as she looked into the uncompromising blue eyes of the SAMCRO Pres. "I can't fuck him! Look at him! He's as big as a fuckin' whale!"

"I couldn't care less if he was in fact an actual fuckin' whale. I'm sure you've done a whole lot worse, darlin'," Jax replied grimly as he folded his arms over his broad chest. "Besides, you  _owe_  a debt to my brother here," he said, nodding at Opie who was watching Ima with a tightlipped expression, "or did you already forget about the shit you got his old lady into? Giving Orca here the fuck of a lifetime is the price of admission back into the Club's good graces. It's what you gotta do to square shit away with Ope  _and_  if you wanna hang around the Club. So what's it gonna be?" Jax's smile only hinted at the malevolence burning in his eyes as he watched the slight woman squirm and shudder in front of him. "Clock's ticking, darlin'."

Wrapping her arms around herself, Ima eyed the biker with thinly-veiled belligerence before finally resigning herself to her fate. Bottom line, she knew the only reason the Club hadn't made her pay with her life for the mess she got Lyla into was because they would find a use for her later. They  _always_  did, only to toss her aside when she was no longer considered a commodity. She couldn't even let that bit of truth hurt her feelings because she knew Jax was right. Not only did she have a debt to pay back, but she  _had_ done worse in life than the fat slob on the floor. Sometimes life gave you lemons and you had no choice but to make fuckin' lemonade. She would get through this, but first she had to convince herself that this was just one more unsavory gig among the many she had done during her career as porn star.

However, it seemed that the hardened and uncompromising Jax Teller Ima knew only too well was softening a bit as he watched her struggle with the torment of what he was ordering her to do. Muttering a few choice curse words under his breath, he grabbed her arm. "Come here," Jax said gruffly as he pulled her out of the circle, leaving behind Happy, Juice, Opie and a couple of Prospects. Standing on the other side of the room, Jax crossed his arms over his chest once again. "Look, the guy's unconscious, so you don't actually have to fuck him."

"Really?" Ima asked, her eyes widening with hope. She watched as Jax ran his ringed fingers through his slicked back shoulder length hair.

"Nah, just put those famous acting skills of yours to work and ride him for a bit," Jax said but immediately held an index finger up to her face. "Make it look good, though, like you're milking him of every last drop. You do this shit right and not only will it help us out, but there might be another business opportunity for you down the road."

_Oh, goody. Another 'opportunity' to get dicked over by the Sons_ , Ima thought with a grimace. Sighing, she balanced herself on the toes of her stilettos in order to look over Jax's shoulder at the group before finally nodding her assent.

"Good," Jax said as he waved Ratboy over who was holding Ima's travel case and garment bag. "Now, go get changed 'cause you're needed on set."

* * *

It had been a rather long afternoon and the SAMCRO Pres was feeling particularly filthy at the moment.

_There is just some shit you can't unsee_ , Jackson Teller thought as he walked into his home.  _Not even flushing my eyeballs with bleach would help unsee the nasty piece of business I orchestrated today_ , he thought with an exhausted sigh as he stripped off his kutte and hung it up on a coat hook by the front door. Kicking off his sneakers, he glanced around the quiet living room. It was dark and hearing no activity there or coming from the kitchen, he headed up the hallway to look for the two most important people in his life. The closer he came to Abel's room, the easier he could hear the soft murmur of voices coming from within. Gently pushing the door slightly ajar, Jax smiled as his eyes finally landed on his Holy Grail, his old lady and son.

Curled up at the head of the bed, Marlowe's long lean frame nearly took up the entire bed as she cuddled a pajama-footed Abel in her arms as she quietly read to him. He could see that his son was fighting a losing battle to stay awake, so Jax waited quietly for his old lady to finish sending their son off to the Land of Nod.

Knowing that he was coming home to his family every night was the one thing that kept Jax firmly focused on the goals set before him. In the end, all that truly mattered to him was that his family enjoyed a safe and happy life while he did good and fulfilling work to provide for them. Living an honest, hardworking life would allow him and his brothers to enjoy all the freedoms living the biker lifestyle afforded them with none of the pain or sacrifice. So far, the road to legitimacy hadn't been an easy one, but every time his eyes lit upon his son, Jax knew he was doing the right thing by striving to fulfill his father's legacy. After all, when it was all said and done, it would be his legacy too.

"Well, if it isn't the Larry Flynt of the MC world," his old lady said quietly as she rose from their son's bed to walk towards him.

Pushing into the room, Jax grabbed Marlowe around her waist and pulled her in for an enthusiastic kiss. "Eh, I'm not nearly as good looking as Mr. Flynt," he joked quietly as his hands found a home on her pert ass. "I see you got little man down for the night," Jax said with a slight nod towards his sleeping son. "I almost interrupted you two."

"I kinda wish you had," Marlowe admitted. "Even though I'm sure it would have taken me another hour to settle his little butt down, he's been wanting to see you. You've been so busy lately, baby, he's been missing his daddy."

"I know," Jax said before dropping another peck on her lips. "That'll change soon, I promise. 'Sides, I'll be here in the morning when he wakes up."

Walking over to the toddler bed, Jax watched Abel as he slept soundly. Bending down, he kissed his son's cool-to-the-touch forehead and tucked the covers around him before turning to exit the room, pulling his old lady along behind him. Standing in front of the closed door, they spent a considerable amount of time swapping spit before Marlowe finally nudged Jax away.

"You hungry, outlaw?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Jax replied with a sly smile. "And as much as I want to land on that ass of yours, I need some food first, babe."

"Well, follow me 'cause I have a plate warming for you in the oven," Marlowe said as she grabbed him by the hand.

"Sounds good to me." He obediently followed his old lady into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table, Jax watched as she pulled out two medium-sized bowls from the fridge.

"I waited for you so we could eat dinner together," Marlowe said noting the look of disdain on Jax's face as she put the plates of salad on the table. "And don't give me any shit, Jackson," she quickly countered before he could open his mouth to complain. "God knows you could use more greens in your diet to counteract all that damn sugar you put in your coffee." She placed a bottle of what looked like homemade Ranch dressing on the table as she took her seat.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Jax liberally poured the creamy dressing over the mix of baby greens, spinach, red cabbage, cucumbers, and grape tomatoes and started eating as Marlowe followed suit.

"I assume everything went well," she stated in between bites of her salad as she watched Jax make quick work of his.

"Yup. As they say in the biz, it's a wrap," Jax replied cheekily. "We definitely got what we needed and then some."

"I'm glad to hear that 'cause that's some really crazy shit you're trying to make happen, Jax," Marlowe said as she lifted a glass of water to her lips. "Although, I'm sure that sort of crazy shit is right up Tigger's alley."

Jax put his fork down and used a paper napkin to wipe his mouth before speaking. "I decided at the last minute to let Tig sit this one out," he stated as Marlowe eyed him with a furrowed brow. "You know, the less bodies involved at this stage, the better," Jax continued, for some reason feeling compelled to explain his thought process to his old lady.

"I get it. That was a smart move, baby, especially since he's so close to Clay," Marlowe replied with a firm nod. "Have you reached out to the good Mayor yet regarding your plan?" she asked as she got up to take their empty bowls to the sink.

"I did, with photos in hand. Nearly gave the man a heart attack too," Jax replied with a smile. "He doesn't seem to have a problem with the use of blackmail, but he did call my way of getting shit done ham-fisted."

"Yeah, I can see why he would," Marlowe replied as she set a hot plate of food and a cold beer in front of Jax. Ham-fisted was putting it mildly considering that the scenario Jax had set out for her included Big-and-Tall size 48 leather chaps and Ima decked out as a Dominatrix. "But I'm sure he knows his little utopia's dead in the water if Biacone doesn't change his vote by the next City Council meeting."

Jax's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as he took his first bite of the succulent beef stew Marlowe had made. "Damn, baby, that's good," he said through his second mouthful, eliciting a chuckle from his old lady. It almost seemed as if their conversation was forgotten as he paused to savor his food. "Hale Jr. is not only a businessman, he's an opportunist," Jax stated, picking up on their conversation after taking a deep pull from his beer bottle. "He's willing to make Charming Heights happen by any means necessary. If what it takes includes getting into bed with the Sons, then guess what, babe."

"He'll do it," Marlowe responded with a smirk.

Jax nodded. "Hale's not a stupid man. He sees the differences between me and Clay and realizes that with the Club under my leadership, his plans for Charming can and will happen," he explained as he continued digging into his food. "We showed him today that SAMCRO is ready and willing to clear any roadblocks that might halt Charming Heights and, to show his gratitude, Hale agreed to spread the wealth a bit. In the next 6 to 8 months, T-M can expect a big chunk of legitimate business to be kicked our way."

Marlowe smiled as she reached over to place a kiss on his lips. "Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?"

"No, not lately," Jax grinned wolfishly.

"Well, I am," Marlowe stated emphatically. "I never met your dad, but to hear Piney talk, you're just like him, baby, and I'm sure he'd be proud of what you're doing for the Club too."

Jax smiled at her wistfully. "We still have a long way to go before we're completely out of guns, babe. All I know for sure is that I couldn't do any of it without you."

"You'll always have my support, Jax, unconditionally and 100%." Marlowe smiled. "With the promise of legit business coming from the Charming Heights development and an end date in sight for these Cartel runs, I'm just glad to do what I can to lift this huge weight off your shoulders . . . Speaking of which, you ready for this weekend?"

Jax gently squeezed her hand before bringing it up to his lips. His old lady was getting really good at hiding her concerns, but he knew she still had them just the same. "Don't worry, babe. I'm not anticipating any problems."

The newly renegotiated deal with the Cartel had been the first major shift Jax had made in an attempt to restructure the Club. All the main sticking points with the deal that Clay had originally brokered with the Cartel were gone. With delivery of the merch now taking place in NorCal instead of Arizona, Jax had approached Romeo several months ago about letting Alvarez and his crew traffic the Cartel's blow to their base in Oakland. Up until that point, SAMCRO had been muling the drugs using a small group of experienced patches. Although they had managed to successfully keep the runs contained and under law enforcement's radar, Jax never felt his Club was truly safe until the drugs were in the possession of the Mayans. Since he was on the receiving end of the drug shipments anyway, it made sense to Marcus Alvarez that his MC take over the runs. Cutting out a third-party contractor meant an even bigger slice of the Cartel's pie for his crew and he had no problem with that.

In the meantime, Opie had been quietly feeling out how his brothers for a reaction to a possible change of the Cartel deal and had received a somewhat favorable response. Confident he had the support he needed, Jax had brought the revised deal to the table for a vote. In spite of the financial hit the Club would be taking, overall the plan to hand over the drug trafficking to the Mayans had been well-received. Looking around the table, Jax could see the relief reflected back at him in the eyes of most of his brothers, especially Kozik. As a former junky, Kozik had never been comfortable with muling drugs and had only put aside his reservations in order to support Clay and Jax.

However, neither Clay nor Tig had been happy about the revised deal, with Clay extremely vocal about his objections. It had been the third time since Jax had taken up the gavel that he and his stepfather had actively butted heads. As far as the former president was concerned, the muling of the drugs had been a necessary condition of their deal with the Cartel—one that had been going smoothly. To Clay, Jax's proposed revisions to the Cartel deal would have SAMCRO giving away easy money to the Mayans at the tune of $100K per shipment every two weeks.

Jax argued that maybe Clay wouldn't think it was so easy if he had been the one making 13-hour runs to Arizona and 13 hours back in a 48-hour period twice a month. He also wasn't the one routinely putting his freedom at risk. With the majority sitting at the table facing a mandatory 25-to-life for another felony, as far as Jax was concerned, making "easy money" didn't mean shit if he couldn't protect his Club. With a few exceptions, however, Clay was convinced Jax wouldn't have enough votes to change the terms of the Cartel deal, sure his brothers would never give up an easy and tax-free $2.4 million for another possible year of muling.

Needless to say, the 8-to-2 vote in favor of the revised deal had completely floored Clay, making the situation even tenser between the older man and the young President. With Clay trying to exert control over the Club he no longer led, Jax knew that as he continued to make slow but steady progress in getting out of the gun business, his already-tense relationship with his stepfather was bound to get only worse.

Jax eyed his old lady, noting that his assurances of a smooth run hadn't erased the concern etched on her face. "Something wrong, babe?" he asked.

Marlowe focused anxious heather gray eyes on his clear blue ones. "I had an interesting conversation with Clay today," she replied. Seeing his eyes darken and his jaw click with tension prompted Marlowe to move quickly to settle him down. "It was nothing bad, Jax."

Jax chuckled without mirth. "I bet it was nothing good either."

"I guess it's all in how you look at it." Marlowe shrugged her shoulders.

"And how do you look at it, Marley?" Jax asked gently.

"Like I was being ordered by a commanding officer to take on a shit assignment," she replied honestly as she wrinkled her nose before quickly adding, "or maybe I just misread the whole conversation and his intentions behind it."

Jax shook his head. He wasn't buying it. Much like her stepbrother Happy, Marlowe Guthrie had killer instincts and knew how to read people. "Nah, babe. If something Clay said gave you a strange vibe, there has to be a reason."

"I just don't get  _why_  he chose to have this particular conversation with me in the first place," Marlowe started. "I mean, in spite of being the MC's medic, no one except you ever discusses Club business with me."

Jax's eyebrows shot up. "What Club business?"

"How you're trying to reboot the porn business by getting Cara Cara up and running again," Marlowe replied without hesitation. If Clay had been expecting to shock her feminine sensibilities with the news, he had been sorely disappointed. One, she didn't care how consenting adults chose to make a living and two, she probably knew more about the Club's plans for Cara Cara than Clay himself. Thanks to many long nights of "pillow talk", Marlowe quickly learned that there wasn't much Jax kept from her.

Marlowe went on to relate that although Clay had taken the soft sell approach with her, she could read his agenda from a mile away. Claiming even though he was all on board with plans to move the Club toward a more legitimate path, he had reservations that maybe Jax was taking on too much too fast. Sure, Unser Trucking was doing extremely well, but financial success in the present couldn't predict how well the business would do in the future, especially once Wayne Unser retired for good. With the Club gearing up to hand over a big chunk of change to the Mayans, it was fiscally irresponsible to take on another endeavor—especially a risky one like porn—so soon.

"He said that you're so hell bent on proving yourself as a leader that you're blind to the fact that you may end up running the Club and yourself into the ground. That you were losing focus of the Club's real business and with so many balls in the air, dropping one could have serious consequences. He also claimed to be worried that you putting in such long hours down at the Clubhouse meant there was trouble in paradise. He suggested that for the sake of our relationship, I needed to talk you into slowing down a bit," Marlowe said with a smirk. "I'm sorry, baby. I like Clay and all, but I just didn't buy his fatherly concern as genuine."

Jax's smile resembled a snarl. "Good call, babe because it wasn't. He's hoping that involving you in Club business will stir up some trouble for me at home, making me lose focus on my plans for SAMCRO."

Marlowe nodded. "I guess he realized that wasn't going to happen when I told him I had blind faith in my old man 'cause that's when he pulled out the big guns."

Jax narrowed his eyes. "What did he say to you?"

Marlowe bit her lip in hesitation, knowing that what she said next was going to piss him off even more than Clay involving her in shit he had no right to involve her in. "That you have a weakness for porn pussy," she started, quickly wishing she could snatch the words back out of thin air when she noted Jax getting red under the collar of his shirt. "He equated you running a porn studio to a kid running amok in a candy store."

Marlowe held her breath and waited for him to blow. He didn't and somehow that worried her more.

"It's one thing for that crippled son of a whore to attempt a power-grab at the table," Jax said, his voice eerily calm as he eyed her grimly. "But he's crossing the line dropping shit like that in your ear."

"Jax," Marlowe shook her head as she squeezed his hand. "I don't scare off so easily and more important, I trust you," she assured him earnestly to no avail.

"He undermines my leadership of the Club by fighting me on every fuckin' decision I make!" Jax said furiously. "He thinks I can't see that he's itching to get the gavel back but I'm always ten steps ahead of the wily bastard! So he pulls a bitch move by leaning on my old lady, hoping to mind-fuck you into thinking I can't keep my dick in my pants!"

Marlowe shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Well, it  _is_  a pretty impressive dick, baby," she teased. Seeing his tight face, however, Marlowe sighed. "Look, Jax. My days of being mind-fucked ended once I got a handle on my PTSD. The only way anyone can get away with playing head games with me is if I let them and that shit ain't happening. 'Sides, you've seen me in action. I can handle dirty skanks who try rubbing up on  _my_  dick, or did you forget?"

Marlowe watched as Jax reluctantly cracked a smile and chuckled. "Almost ending up with a KA-BAR between the eyes is kinda hard to forget, darlin'."

"So what's the beef?" Marlowe threw up her hands. "I ain't got one and neither should you. I only told you about Clay being a dick in the interest of full disclosure 'cause his snarky bullshit wasn't what sent up a red flag."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was Clay's insistence that you were just wasting time and money trying to get Cara Cara operational again, like he knew something you didn't," Marlowe explained. "I couldn't put my finger on it until he mentioned the trouble Rosen was having getting shit off the ground since you put him on the task several months ago." Standing up, she grabbed their plates and with her old man on her heels, made quick work of scrapping the remnants of their meal and handing them to him to place in the sink. Handing Jax a dish towel, she started washing the dishes. "It kind of got me thinking about the Club's counsel. I guess Rosen's been around for a long time now, huh?"

Jax nodded as he took a clean plate from her and started to dry it absently before putting it in a cabinet. "Yeah, Scott Rosen's been handling the MC's legal matters ever since Clay took over." Jax crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you ask?"

Marlowe turned to lean against the counter to face him. "Well, aside from Tig, you've told me that Clay has his share of supporters across all the charters. It only stands to reason that he can also count supporters among outside associates as well. After making Opie your VP, what was your next official act as President?"

Jax's brow creased. "I made Hap my SAA."

Marlowe nodded. "Exactly. I love Tigger, I really do, but I've been around long enough to know that he has always been in Clay's pocket. I'm not telling you how to run the Club, baby, but you might want to consider completely cleaning house by taking this mobbed up lawyer up on her offer. After all, doesn't it seem a little odd that someone who charges $1200-an-hour isn't savvy enough to plow through some red tape? He even dropped the ball on getting the Club its insurance money for the warehouse. Isn't it possible that he's deliberately gumming up the works as a favor to Clay?"

Marlowe remained silent while she watched her old man's mind at work as a look of intensity, irritation and, finally, enlightenment flashed over his handsome features. "Honestly, babe, that possibility never even crossed my mind."

"Well, now that it has, maybe you need to think long and hard before deciding to turn down this chick's offer. It can't hurt to weigh all the options." Marlowe grinned. "Now," she purred and, having finished the dishes, snaked one arm around his waist as her free hand cupped the junction between his legs.

Jax grinned. Leave it to his old lady to drop some knowledge on him to marinate, only to quickly switch topics. "What's this?" he purred back.

"Just me, in the mood for dessert," she murmured sexily in his ear, gently nipping his lobe with her teeth.

In one swift move, Jax scooped her up in his arms. "Well, never let it be said that this outlaw has failed to satisfy his old lady's cravings," he said wickedly as he headed off to their bedroom.

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Indian Hills, Nevada – Saturday, March 12, 2011** _

The guitar-heavy twang of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" was playing in the background as Jury's girls and their customers enjoyed another drunken and jovial Saturday night at the Clubhouse. Sitting comfortably on a plush leather couch, Happy idly sipped on a beer as he watched the action. Having arrived only a couple of hours earlier, he was keeping to himself as he relaxed and waited for his Syndicate contact to show up with SAMCRO's big bag of cash. It had been four weeks since Happy had cleaned up an in-house problem for the Torelli organization and Jax had once again dispatched the outlaw to Nevada in order to collect payment.

When it was all said and done, Happy had spent about five days away from Charming on the assignment. Upon his return one Monday afternoon, he found the SAMCRO Pres and his VP waiting for him in the Chapel. After a short but warm welcome home, Happy had settled into a debriefing conducted by his brothers. During the course of an hour, Happy had downloaded every detail of the hit, as well as everything he had been exposed to during his short stay in Reno. The more he spoke, the more Jax's interest was piqued, especially when it came down to Nico Torelli. As Happy had expected would happen, Jax was absorbing his every word with the intent of using the information he provided to determine whether or not he would seriously consider taking Nico up on her offer to help SAMCRO.

Happy, however, was of two minds on the matter. Although he could see the benefits of getting into bed with the Italian diva—in his case, both literally and figuratively—Happy still had some significant reservations. Under a different set of circumstances, he could definitely see how the Club could benefit from Nico's business knowledge and her unacknowledged position of influence in the Syndicate. Under present circumstances, however, Happy believed that the MC was borrowing trouble with its plans to go legit. With past experience weighing heavy on his mind, he couldn't see a way out of dealing guns without shit getting complicated for Jax with the RIRA, not to mention with SAMCRO's long list of clients as well, one of which was Jimmy Cacuzza.

_Sitting at the head of the Redwood table, Jax had looked serious as he took his time in contemplating Happy's report before he spoke._ _"Now that you've had_ _direct contact with Nico Torelli one-on-one, what's your take on her, Hap?" he asked. "She difficult?"_

_Happy lit a cigarette, hiding the near-smirk on his face as he contemplated the several "one-on-one" contacts he had had with Nico._ _"She's all business when it comes to the Syndicate, brother," Happy started, his deep growl sounding deadly serious. "The mob may be a man's world, but she knows how to operate in order to make herself a place in it. From what I saw first-hand, she's not Gianni Torelli's eyes and ears on the outside because she's his little princess. She may be tough in a power suit, but that suit comes off and that bitch is fuckin' deadly."_

_Although interesting to hear coming from Happy, Jax wasn't surprised by his assessment. Unlike some of his brothers, Jax never underestimated the potential for danger when dealing with a woman. His mother had taught him that. In spite of the first impression Nico had made on him and his crew in her tight leather pants and even tighter bustier, Jax never lost sight of the dangerous glint in her eyes. A mix of don't-fuck-with-me attitude and bloodlust, it was a look Jax was all too familiar with after riding with the MC for over ten years._

" _According to a conversation Clay had with Jimmy," Jax continued as he lit his own cigarette. "Gianni ordered the hit but left the planning up to her. You believe there's any truth to that?"_

" _I_ _know_ _there's fuckin' truth to that," Happy replied adamantly. "There's no doubt in my mind that her father trusts her with his life and I have no doubt she earned every bit of that trust."_

" _So does that mean, i_ _f you had to, you would work with her again?" Opie asked curiously._

_I'd rather fuck her_ _, Happy wanted to say but didn't._

_Instead, he barely gave it a thought before replying, "She definitely has OCD 'cause that bitch's attention to detail is off the fuckin' charts, bro, but that only made my job easier. By the time I showed up, all I had to do was set up my work site. She put the screws to her ex, got the Intel she needed and didn't bat an eye when I gutted him like a fish at the end." Happy paused, thinking about the punches she had practically ordered him to land on her and how Tiny had smiled at him with blood-stained teeth after._

_Jax and Opie furtively glanced at each other with raised eyebrows as they noted the almost-there smile on Happy's face._

" _Yeah," Happy continued as he nodded his head. "I'd work with her again," he declared much to his brothers' surprise._

With Jax determined to pull the Club away from their outlaw legacy, even Happy realized the best way to accomplish that would be with the guidance of someone with experience in such matters. It would be foolish to proceed without someone as savvy and smart as Nico helping them out, especially when it was free of charge. Now that SAMCRO's legitimacy was all but a done deal, however, Happy needed to reconsider his place in the MC and what he wanted out of the Life going forward.

Having already mentioned to Jax the idea of going Nomad once SAMCRO transitioned into a legit organization, Happy thought it was time for him to seriously consider his options. He had certainly done his homework by spending the last four months visiting various charters on his down time for a few days at a time. As a matter of fact, before arriving in Jury's neck of the woods, Happy had spent a few days down in Las Vegas.

As usual, there was always a party to be had and Happy had enjoyed a good time there. However, the Vegas charter was bursting at the seams, second only to Tacoma when it came to active members. The charter's President, Mason "Mace" Lee must have sniffed out recon as the reason for Happy's visit because he had offered him a seat at the table as an incentive for him to make the jump.

_We could always use a brother with your skill set around here_ , Mace had said.

It was a tempting offer, especially since the Vegas Sons were one of the two charters that had voted in meth dealing, making them definitely outlaw. But even though Happy had spent his days there drinking, playing poker and nailing more than just a few of the Club pass-arounds, he just didn't care for the vibe in the Clubhouse.

As Marlowe was fond of pointing out, he was getting old and too set in his ways to deal with a charter that was just too big and too crowded. With his bloodlust reawakened by the murder of Rocco Agnello, however, Happy knew he still craved the danger of being an outlaw. But even though he wasn't the sentimental type—and would never admit feeling this way to Marlowe—he loved having his sister close to him in Charming and Vegas was just too far.

But then there was Indian Hills to consider.

Happy allowed his dark eyes to wander around the Clubhouse. Jury—and the Sons by affiliation—owned a number of highly profitable strip joints and brothels in the area. The book and pussy trade was a lucrative business and, according to a couple of patches who had recently made the jump from Las Vegas, the wealth was spread around quite fairly with every active member making a decent living. It wasn't a big money maker like gun running, but it was still somewhat outlaw without carrying a significant amount of time should Happy wind up inside again.

Not quite as small as SAMCRO, the Northern Nevada charter seemed to have the best vibe and fit for his lifestyle. With its current line of business, Happy doubted he would ever suffer a dull moment. As a matter of fact, he was tempted to bypass a transfer to the Nomad charter in favor of making a straight and permanent jump to Indian Hills. The free pussy and good money certainly made the case for transfer here, but he was sold on its relative closeness to Charming and the fact that he could be there quickly should the need ever arise.

And then there was Tiny.

With the Syndicate's main base of operation in Reno, the odds of killing some time with the gorgeous brunette by hitting her shit on the regular were in his favor. Although he would never admit it to anyone—and this was a list of things which seemed to be growing—the more he thought about it, Happy would gladly make the trek to Reno from Indian Hills just so he could slip into that tight, warm pussy. Shrugging off the niggling sensation that he had more than just a passing interest in Tiny, Happy reasoned that she was just a friend of the Club with side bennies only he got to enjoy from time to time.

_The last thing I'm looking for is anything permanent with the little bitch_ , he thought as if trying to convince someone other than himself. After all, he had never in his life had a serious relationship with a woman that involved sex and he wasn't about to start now. Although Happy would never consider a move to a charter just for the sake of a good fuck, he wasn't stupid enough not to take advantage of the opportunity if it presented itself either.

With his mind's eye caressing the curves of Nico's tight body, Happy was slightly startled out of his thoughts when the weight of another body displaced his as it hit the couch. Looking to his left, he set his dark eyes on the ruddy face of the charter's President, Jury White.

"So," Jury drawled as he puffed on his cigar, "looks like your contact is keeping you waiting, Hap. You wanna go and get with one of the sweetbutts to kill some time? I can give you a heads up whenever they decide to show up."

"Appreciate the offer, but I keep my dick games on hold until Club business is settled," Happy replied. "I will take you up on the hospitality later, though."

"As you wish, brother," the older biker stated. "I better go and see to some of my clients. I got this one fella who wants three of my girls to—" Jury's thought was forgotten, his voice trailing off as his light blue eyes focused on the svelte figure making her way over to him. "Well, I'll be. Look who's slumming again tonight," he said with a chuckle.

With his back slightly towards the door, Happy turned his head when he heard a soft, yet throaty voice. "I'm going to take that to mean that you've been missing me, Jury," Nico Torelli said pertly, a large duffel bag slung over the shoulder of her butter-soft black leather jacket.

Reaching down to plant a quick kiss on Jury's cheek, she grinned into the surprised dark eyes of the SAA.

"Hey there, killer."

* * *

Jury sat back and watched with a wry grin as the man next to him and the newly-arrived woman eyed each other—one with surprise and the other with supreme confidence. It had been a few months since the dark-haired beauty had darkened his doorway, making Jury wonder if it was a coincidence that she just so happened to stop by when the smiley-tat wearing outlaw decided to show up after a two-month hiatus.

Jury stood up to greet his guest, giving Nico an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. "Miss  _you_? Well, not if you're here to hustle my clientele out of their money again. Guess it's a good thing the Sheriff's out of town with his wife this weekend. He was sure put out the last time you beat the pants off of him in poker," he stated with a genuine smile. "But between you and me, honey, I think he was just grumpy that you wouldn't let him into yours."

Nico threw her head back and laughed good-naturedly. "If the good Sheriff had the sense to stop judging me by the company I keep, he'd realize that the chances of that happening are as good as him ever winning his money back." Grinning, Nico turned her attention to Happy who was still sitting down. "Besides, Jury, I think by now you should know that my tastes run a little rough and don't include the likes of your friends in law enforcement."

Jury's eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of his brother's intimidating grin, something most people didn't get to see every day, if ever. "I'm guessing you've changed your mind about entertaining yourself until your contact decides to show up," he directed at Happy with a shit-eating grin.

It was then that the outlaw stood up. "Actually, brother, looks like Tiny here  _is_  my contact."

Nico huffed irritably as she easily slipped in between the two men to glare up at Happy with a hand on an indignantly cocked hip. " _When_  are you going to stop calling me 'Tiny'? You know I don't like it."

"Never, so get over it," he replied as he towered over her, eyeing the petite brunette like a tasty morsel. "And you need to do better at guarding your weaknesses. Stop being so defensive about your height 'cause we both know you're one tough bitch."

Jury did his best to smother a guffaw as he eyed the couple.  _Seems like these two have gotten to know each other a little better than I realized_.

Expecting Tiny—err, Nico to lose her shit, Jury wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. "If you two are here to discuss business, why don't you go on and use my office? It's quiet and," he paused meaningfully, "soundproof. C'mon, I'll show you the way and get you set up with some drinks."

Raising an eyebrow at Happy, Nico allowed the Club President to steer her towards the back of the bar.

_Club business first_ , Happy thought, watching her denim-clad ass sway as she walked away before falling in step behind them.  _Then we get down to the real business of me collecting on Tiny's debt of gratitude._

* * *

Nico had been on pins and needles during the entire drive from Reno. Although she was on her way to Indian Hills to conclude the deal she had made with Jax Teller, Nico had to admit that her reasons for insisting on being the one to deliver payment had been entirely self-serving. Learning only the day before from the SAMCRO President that Happy would be the one making the pick up, she had to put her foot down with Jimmy who had been prepared to send one of his underlings to make the drop instead.

Grateful that her uncle had not seen the need to probe too deeply into her reasons for wanting to trek out to the sticks herself, Nico wasn't so naïve as to believe that Jimmy was oblivious to an ulterior motive. If anyone knew her as well as her father did, that someone would be her Zio. After flawlessly dealing with a family "tragedy" for the past three weeks, even Jimmy knew that Nico was entitled to some down time. He just had no desire for confirmation that blowing off some steam would include playing poker in between rounds of rough and dirty sex with the man that had killed her ex-husband. With family obligations taken care of and her son safely back in boarding school, it was none of his business how his favorite niece chose to let her freak flag fly.

Thoughts of her son made Nico's heart ache something fierce. Only fourteen and already displaying the intestinal fortitude lacking by men twice his age, Tonio had taken the initial news of his missing father rather well. Always closest to his mother, however, his mask of stoicism had crumbled the moment he had laid eyes on Nico after returning with her Uncle Jimmy from the police station. Although Nico had hoped to spare Tonio having to see her badly bruised and beaten face and bedraggled appearance, his had been the first face she had seen upon her return to her parents' home early Sunday morning. Nico suddenly and gratefully found herself cradled in the arms of her gangly son, his concern for her evident in his red, swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Nico felt her guts seize and clench with guilt, not for what she had done to Rocco but because Tonio cried bitter tears over the condition she was in and the horrible experience he imagined she had endured.

The sympathy and concern seemed to start and end with her son, however, as Nico was instantly bombarded with questions and demands for details not only from her family—her mother's voice the loudest and least sympathetic of all—but from the gathered group of under bosses as well. Although the party the night before had come to an abrupt end as word of the attack on the new Boss reached the Torelli compound, the made men of her father's organization had decided to stay put. One, for their own safety and two, they wanted Nico debriefed of the events in their presence as soon as she was released from police custody.

Even though Nico knew that blubbering and crying fake tears over the disappearance of her former husband in front of his colleagues was all part of the scheme to throw suspicion on outside parties, it had been a long fucking night and she needed a break. Squeezing out a few crocodile tears in lieu of the Oscar-winning performance she had unleashed on the police, Nico begged for a few hours to pull herself together before she met with the under bosses.

Assuring her son that the family would do all they could to locate his father, Nico retreated to her old bedroom to shower and rest before her presence in front of the under bosses was demanded. Downing several shots of strong espresso brought to her by her doting sisters, Nico changed into attire appropriate for a meeting in her capacity as the Syndicate's lawyer. She could only carry on with the grief routine for so long before pressing matters started coming to a head, namely how this developing situation in a chain of recent events would affect the Syndicate going forward.

_Standing behind her father's luxurious yet empty leather armchair in his smoking room, Nico had carefully repeated the pack of lies she had fed the police earlier. This time, however, she added that she "feared" that the scum bags that had taken Rocco had ties to Vegas, a suspicion she thought best not to share with law enforcement._

_"The decision to make Rocco the new Boss was made just last night," Nico added quietly. "As such, I cannot believe that anyone inside the organization had anything to do with what happened on that road."_

_"I should say not," Leo Perelli, an under boss whose territory oversaw the family business in South Lake Tahoe, vocalized irritably. "With the hit on your father two months ago, it looks like outside forces are making a move to take over the family again. As far as anybody knew, Rocco was Acting Boss and the next logical target."_

_"I agree," one of Leo's captains chimed in. "The Fab Five have deep roots in Vegas. Maybe this is part of their efforts to expand their interests farther west."_

_It was a well-known fact that the Five Families of New York and New Jersey organized crime were always looking to expand and it wasn't a totally unreasonable deduction to make._

_"It's entirely possible," Jimmy Cacuzza agreed, "but our first priority right now should be protecting the family. I don't wanna sound crude or nothin', but every hour that passes so does the likelihood that Rocco will be restored to us alive."_

_"He's right," Nico said sadly, her eyes moist with unshed tears. "It's been over twelve hours and no one has called demanding a ransom. The Syndicate must operate under the assumption that Roc's dead and put someone in charge right now or risk having the Five Families make a push for control," she advised cautiously. "Although it is certainly not for me to say, I believe you gentlemen know exactly whom my father would prefer at the helm in his stead, aside from Rocco of course, so I will leave you to it."_

Leaving the room with her head down as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief handed to her by one of her brothers-in-law, Nico had proven herself the proper and dutiful daughter who knew her place in the male-dominated family. Judging by the vibe in the room, she was confident that Jimmy would walk out of there as the new Acting Boss. It was a gig he was good at but had no desire to keep, which was what made him the perfect man for the job until her father's release from prison.

_If the cancer doesn't kill him first._

Although Nico still had hope that Gianni Torelli would live long enough to run the Syndicate again, they still needed to prepare for the worst as they prayed for the best. Which was why Jimmy's prime objective as Acting Boss was to groom Dominic to take over when the time came to name a new and permanent Godfather. As usual, Nico had read the room filled with under bosses as if reading a jury, which she was quite good at as well. As she had hoped, the Syndicate was now in the safe and capable hands of her Uncle Jimmy, easing the pressure and letting Nico concentrate all of her energy on consoling her son.

When the news finally came the following day that Rocco's body had been found in an abandoned building on Las Vegas' skid row, she had resolutely shouldered the responsibilities of a true mob widow with a tough mindedness and grace that made her family proud. Nico had taken the lead in making all the arrangements, from identifying the body to arranging for its transfer to a funeral home in Reno. Less than a week after Rocco's disappearance, she sat with her arm around her son's shoulders at the open casket funeral mass presided over by the same Bishop who had officiated at her own wedding sixteen years before.

After the funeral and burial of his father, Tonio spent a week with Nico before deciding that he was ready to return to school. Proud that her son was making the effort to move beyond his grief, she sent Tonio back to Basel, Switzerland against the very vocal protestations of Tonio's grandmother. Not a stranger to residing on her mother's shit list, Nico couldn't care less what Rosanna felt was in the best interest of  _her_  son, especially since Tonio would be coming home for summer vacation.

With her son settled once again at school, Nico had set about concluding business with the Sons of Anarchy, including retrieving the funds they were entitled to from one of her father's many secret safety deposit boxes he maintained throughout the State. Now as Jury escorted her to his office, she looked over her shoulder and into the smoldering, dark as pitch eyes of the SAMCRO assassin and, feeling a deep stirring in her belly, smiled to herself.

* * *

Jury's office was small, but comfortable. Sporting what looked to be a sturdy desk with a large executive-style chair, the only other furniture in the room was a plush leather couch, a coffee table and a large liquor cabinet. The mahogany paneled walls were covered with memorabilia and pictures of Jury as a young man in the U.S. Army, where he had been highly decorated for his service in Vietnam, as well as a hell-raising biker of The Devil's Tribe.

Dropping the duffel bag she carried on the coffee table, Nico made herself comfortable on the sofa and watched as Happy sat down as well. Neither of them spoke as a young Prospect walked in past Jury with a bottle of Jack and two glasses before Jury ushered him out, closing the door behind them both.

Now completely alone, Nico crossed a denim clad leg over her knee and turned to face the biker from her corner of the couch. "It's been a while, tiger," she purred. "You happy to see me?"

Happy took his time letting his eyes travel the length of her body and back before he flashed what Nico took to be his attempt at a smile. "I guess it's all good seeing you in one piece," he drawled. "It's not every day some banged up broad walks away alone on a dark, deserted road and lives to tell about it."

With her elbow resting on the back of the couch, Nico tilted her head, burying her hand in her wavy hair, and smiled lazily at Happy. "You were worried about me, outlaw?"

Happy smirked.  _Maybe_ , he thought to himself.  _Not that I'll ever let you know_.

"Not really," he started, an evil glint in his eyes. "Only worry I had was not getting my cut of the money promised to the Club if you ended up dead." Happy almost broke out into a full out grin as the light of expectation shining in her eyes dimmed.

_Needy bitch_.

Reaching out with the steel toe of his boot, Happy nudged the bag sitting on the center of the coffee table. "Can I assume that's what's in the bag, Tiny?"

Folding her arms across her chest, Nico rolled her eyes as it was becoming increasingly clear Happy would always refuse to address her by her given name.

"It's all there, $250K." Using her own booted foot—a real effort considering how short her legs were—Nico shoved the bag back in Happy's direction. "Feel free to count it if you want. I've got nowhere I need to be."

Happy raised an eyebrow at her not-so-subtle hint regarding her availability as he reached out and grabbed the bag. Unzipping it, he let out a low whistle at the sight of the many bundles of fifty and hundred dollar bills. "Pres said there was no need to count it. He trusts you're operating in good faith."

Nico cocked her head at Happy. "Yet I get the feeling that you're the kind of man that would prefer confirming for himself that it's all there."

Happy shrugged his shoulders as he re-zipped the bag. "Doesn't matter what I prefer. It's Jax's call and he's good with it. I ain't one to question my President's judgment."

Nico flashed Happy with a slight smile. "Seems I wasn't paying lip service to my ex after all. You are as loyal as they come," she commented with admiration. "You have my word, Hap. It's all there, plus a nice little bump in your cut for a job well done."

Happy frowned.

"Something wrong?" Nico asked.

Happy shook his head as his left shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. "Nah. I was just looking forward to negotiating the terms that would settle your personal debt of gratitude to me," Happy replied nonchalantly.

"Well, the extra cash is my father's way of saying thanks." Nico smirked. "Besides, I have other ways of showing gratitude," she said and bit her pillowy bottom lip as Happy's smoldering, dark glare pierced her soul. "You made an ugly but necessary task that much easier to accomplish," she admitted.

"Ugly is what I do best," Happy replied without a hint of bravado or false modesty.

"It's not all you do best, killer," Nico grinned suggestively, pleasantly surprised to see one corner of Happy's mouth raise into what could be called a smile. "You covered your tracks extremely well. Vegas PD's not sure which way is up with regards to their investigation."

Ignoring his twitching dick for the time being, Happy found his curiosity piqued. "How is that going?" he asked, focusing curious eyes on her.

"Well, as expected, solving the murder of a known mobster isn't particularly high on the list of priorities for the cops. According to my sources, it didn't take them too long to figure out just how seriously indebted Rocco was to some high-rolling bookies," Nico started as she reached forward to pour out two drinks. Handing one of the glasses to Happy, she took a grateful sip from hers before continuing. "With most of the Homicide and Vice squads on the local mob's payroll, no one wants to probe too deep in case it was a contract hit coming from their own jurisdiction."

Happy nodded with a smirk. "Looks like making the trek out to the outskirts of Vegas to make the dump was the right call to make," he noted with a bit of admiration. "Kept that shit out of Reno."

"And Rocco would approve, considering Las Vegas was his playground," Nico added before taking another generous sip.

"At least he didn't shit where he ate," Happy commented.

"That was about the only smart thing he ever did on his own." Nico smiled. "My father believes that addictions make a man weak and a liability. Rocco had three strikes against him in that regard—cocaine, whores and illegal card games. My father, however, believed in the sanctity of family and even though we were no longer married, he still considered Roc a son, so he gave him a pass until he got pushed into a corner and couldn't look the other way anymore."

"But why the cloak-and-dagger treatment, Tiny? I mean, the piece of shit almost had your father gutted in the joint," Happy stated with disgust. "No one would have blamed him for putting your ex on ice."

"Not unless they were involved themselves," Nico replied matter of fact. "You heard Rocco. He didn't act alone in this."

"If you don't mind me asking," Happy started. "Is there a plan for dealing with the other assholes involved?"

Nico drained her glass of the remaining amber liquid. "There is," she nodded, "but everyone's on high alert right now, so we're holding back, waiting for shit to die down a bit. It may take a minute, but I've got nothing but time. My focus right now is on my father's health and my son's well-being."

Happy suddenly remembered Nico and Rocco discussing their son before the man confessed to his part in the plot to kill the head of the Torelli Syndicate. He had never cared one way or the other if a bitch had a kid—well, with the exception of Shannon Guthrie, Marlowe's incubator. Now, looking at the lusciously curvy brunette, Happy found himself wanting details, which was very unlike him.

Before he could put a stop to it, Happy heard himself ask, "How old is your boy?"

"Fourteen going on thirty," Nico replied, her eyes brightening as she smiled at the thought of her baby boy. "He's so serious and grown up. He's been that way since he started walking and talking. It makes me wonder how all of this is  _really_  affecting him."

"At that age, he's probably feeling all sorts of shit and looking to you for clues on how to handle it. Having a strong bitch for a mother, though, he's probably confused as fuck," Happy said with sincerity. After all, he knew from experience what it was like to be raised by a strong woman.

Happy, however, found himself on the receiving end of a death glare. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that in spite of the shit your ex is guilty of, he was still the father of your son and we all know that bitches are soft when it comes to shit like that," Happy replied with, surprisingly, even more sincerity, much to Nico's disdain. "You're loyal to your father and the Syndicate. I get that and I respect that, but you gotta let your kid know that his father's death is affecting you too. Otherwise, because of the love he's got for you, his grief will never feel right or natural and he'll just bottle that shit up."

Nico stared at Happy with wide eyes before shaking herself from her surprised daze. "Well, thank you, Oprah, but how in the fuck did we end up talking about this shit?"

"Fuck, you're the one flapping those pretty little lips of yours!" Happy replied gruffly.

Nico could feel the heat of Happy's dark glare on her mouth, causing her to flush. In spite of feeling like a smitten schoolgirl, she managed to bat her eyes seductively at him as she smiled. "So you like what you see, huh?"

"I do," Happy practically growled. "Especially when instead of flapping, those lips should be wrapped tightly around my cock."

Nico let out a peal of laughter. "Typical male response," she teased. "So I'm guessing you enjoyed that the last time around?"

"I enjoyed that  _every_  time, Tiny," he retorted. Reaching out, Happy grabbed a hold of Nico's foot and dragged her across the couch until she was practically in his arms. Quickly positioning herself over his body, Nico straddled his lap, her ass settling directly on top of his groin. Giving it a little wriggle, she smiled as she felt Happy's almost instantaneous reaction as he went from semi-hard to granite underneath her.

"You know, outlaw, I'm in need of some hard-earned rest and relaxation," Nico said seductively as she slid her arms around his neck.

"Is that right?" Happy reached up and with a growl overtook her lips with his. Dueling tongues danced against each other for control. Grinding her hips into Happy's, Nico pulled away from his kiss and groaned, her head falling back as his mouth fell to her breasts and he gnawed at them through her shirt.

Fighting to regain her composure, Nico grabbed Happy by his ears and pulled his head up until he was looking straight into her eyes. "I could use another drink," she announced, much to Happy's annoyance.

"You wanna drink  _now_?" he asked irritably.

"Sure. Don't you?" she asked innocently.

"No!" he exclaimed gruffly. "I wanna fuck."

With a smile, Nico said, "One drink won't stop that from happening."

"Fine," Happy replied grumpily. "One drink.  _One_ ," he emphasized as he reached for the bottle on the coffee table only to have Nico stop him.

"Nuh uh, tiger. That stuff is all right, but I'm thinking we can do better."

"Like what? This shit is as good as it gets here at Jury's." He watched somewhat irked as Nico suddenly unwrapped herself from around him and stood up.

"Then follow me, outlaw, because I have some top-shelf shit for you, and I don't just mean to drink."

* * *

Following Nico as she sped her way down the I-580, Happy was looking forward to reaching their destination and picking up where they had left off, quick and in a fuckin' hurry. Assured by the little sexpot in fuck-me heels that her place was barely forty minutes away, Happy managed to keep himself in check as he kept up with the fast pace she was setting. He had his work cut out for him too as it was clear that the tiny bitch intended to show him that she knew how to handle that sweet little cage of hers as she effortlessly weaved in and out of traffic.

Approximately 34 minutes after leaving Jury's, they finally pulled off the highway. Traveling for a couple of more miles, they approached an unmanned security station in what was undoubtedly an exclusive neighborhood. Happy's lips twisted into a smirk. The upscale digs should not come as a surprise to him as Tiny had a substantial whiff about her that hinted at her being spoiled rotten.

Still, however, rounding a curve, Happy's eyebrows lifted as Nico pulled her car into a driveway that stopped in front of a three-car garage attached to a huge home. The large house was made of sandstone and glass. With security and accent lighting flooding the property, it stood out brightly in the darkness. Occupying a huge portion of land, it wasn't nearly as massive as the Torelli estate, but it was still what he knew people referred to as a McMansion.

Happy watched as the first garage door opened and Nico pulled her Porsche inside. Parking his ride in front of the second garage door, Happy cut the engine and pulled off his bike glasses and leather gloves, tucking them into his saddlebag before getting off and strolling over to Nico.

"Do you people ever do anything small?" he asked snarkily.

Nico rolled her eyes. "If by 'you people' you mean 'Italians', then no. Small is not really a part of our vocabulary," she replied gaily as she grabbed her handbag from the front seat and slammed the car door behind her. "Come on."

As Nico took the three levels of stairs up to the front door at a quick and excited jog, Happy laconically followed her. Coming up from behind, he watched as her slender fingers danced across the digital keypad on the right side of the door.

"Nicoletta Antonia Torelli," she said in a crisp tone into the voice recognition speaker above the panel. Happy heard the loud snicks and clicks of heavy bolts opening and moving before she pushed open the heavy door and crooked a finger at him. "Don't be shy and step into my lair," she said smiling coyly.

Stepping into the foyer, Happy watched as Nico slammed the door shut behind them and strode past him. "Don't just stand there, outlaw. Follow me because it seems I owe you a drink." Following the siren song of her pert little ass as it swayed back and forth, Happy was unaware of his surroundings until he reached the living room.

The artist in him had to admit that the room was indeed beautiful and could probably hold Gemma's living room four times over. Large and sumptuous, it was filed with fancy yet comfortable-looking furniture with scalloped edges in a variety of warm tones ranging from ivory and taupe to deep rich browns and earthy greens. Filled with curved archways and high ceilings, Happy saw the elegant and curved stairway that led up to a balcony landing that circled the entire second floor. With a number of large windows and skylights, Happy figured if the room looked this good now, it was probably breathtaking in daylight with the bright Nevada sun streaming in.

"Like what you see?"

"It's a'ight," he replied offhandedly and swallowed an inward smirk at Nico's slightly miffed expression.

_Little bitch wants to impress me_.

"Well, do make yourself at home, please," she invited airily.

Walking over to the sofa, Happy sat down and stretched his arms over the back. Nico tossed her handbag into a chair and stripped off her leather jacket, dropping it on top of her purse. She walked over to an ornate liquor cabinet and she pulled out a couple of glasses.

"This sure is a lot of shit to clean," Happy noted absently as his eyes wandered around the room.

"It sure is," Nico agreed, "which is why I have a housekeeper." She turned just in time to see Happy eye her warily.

"Don't like getting your hands dirty, princess?" he teased.

"Not unless there's a hot biker involved," she quipped as she opened the liquor cabinet. "Cleaning is not my thing, although I do love to cook when I have the time."

_Yep, she's got a beautiful fuckin' ass_ , Happy thought as he got an eyeful of her wriggling backside as she bent over to rummage through bottles of booze.  _But she's spoiled fuckin' rotten._

"Still waiting on that drink, Tiny," he noted gruffly and made somewhat grumpy by the fact that he was already hard again and she wasn't even naked yet. "I'm thirsty."

_And not just for some booze either._

"Good things come to those who wait, killer," Nico replied as she pulled out a crystal decanter of rich amber liquid. Pouring out a decent measure into two large matching tumblers, Happy watched as she made her way back to him and held out a glass. "Try this," she encouraged before sitting down next to him.

Taking a healthy sip, Happy's eyes widened. The Scotch was smooth yet powerful as it slid its way down his throat, leaving warmth behind as it settled into his belly. "Damn, this is some good shit," he said wishing he had a cigar to go with it.

"Yeah, it is," she said as she took a sip herself. Placing her glass on the coffee table, Nico got up and in a quick move, settled herself into Happy's lap. Taking his glass out of his hand, she took a generous sip before bending backwards and putting the glass on the table with hers.

Pulling her into his arms, Happy raised an eyebrow. "I was enjoying that."

"Of course you were, but that Scotch has waited 30 years for you to drink it and it only gets better with age, so that shit can wait. I want you right now," she purred and winced as Happy adroitly avoided her mouth.

"Why don't you wait until I make a move before jumping my ass?" he said with an evil smirk.

Nico rolled her eyes. "Oh, so suddenly you're old fashioned?" she asked sarcastically. "Give me a fucking break, Hap and get to it already."

Happy suddenly reached up and took her chin in his strong hands. "For a lady you're a pretty demanding and bossy bitch," he growled. "And for the record, I don't make it a habit of fuckin' ladies."

"Good 'cause I'm not a lady. I'm a lawyer," she retorted.

"I don't fuck 'em either."

"You already did," Nico replied smartly. "At least a dozen times over the course of two encounters."

The corner of Happy's mouth raised in what Nico now recognized as his sexy smile. "We might just break that record tonight," he muttered as he fastened his lips onto hers.

Eagerly opening her mouth beneath his, Happy grinned as he heard Nico moan. Standing up with her still in his arms, Happy headed for the stairs as Nico practically sighed with relief. About to bust a nut himself, Happy took the stairs two at a time, his long legs making rapid progress.

* * *

**A/N: I** **f you would like to see Nico's house, check out my website (www.harleequinn.com).**

**Hugs, Harlee!**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Reno, Nevada – Sunday, March 6, 2011** _

It was situations like these that made Dominic Torelli think that maybe his mother was right all along and he hated that shit!

Although he loved his mother unconditionally, he certainly wasn't blind to Rosanna's flaws, which—according to Nico—there were plenty to choose from. What usually set Dominic's teeth on edge, however, was his mother's insistence that every word that came out of her mouth was gospel and should be adhered to as such, no questions asked. Having grown up under such tyranny—even though his sisters got it a lot worse than he ever did—had prompted Dominic to rebel in any way he could, namely when it came to the women he hooked up with.

Apparently, his current lady love was hell bent on proving his mother right when Rosanna insisted that he would be better off with an old-fashioned Italian girl. This being the third time in two months that his crazy Russian girlfriend had locked him out of their apartment had Dominic contemplating the wisdom of that advice.

' _Cause Elena is gonna be the fuckin' death of me_ , he thought grimly as he angrily punched in the key code that allowed him to cruise through the security station of Nico's gated community.

Dominic loved women, loved almost everything about them—their luscious bodies, the way they felt, the way they smelled. Everything, that is, until they started acting like his mother. That was a deal-breaker and had been an issue with one or two past girlfriends, but Elena had been different. As laid back and fun as she was gorgeous, Elena had suddenly morphed into a domineering ball buster like his mother as soon as they had relocated back to Reno from Southern California. Although Nico had taken a liking to her the first time they had met five years ago, with Elena lately flashing shades of Rosanna, Nico had recently been campaigning for Dominic to ditch her ass.

" _That's a little harsh, don'tcha think?" Dominic had asked Nico less than two weeks before—the last time Elena had kicked him out of their place._

_Handing her little brother a steaming demitasse of espresso, Nico crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I don't think it is," she replied. "Ma is who she is and gets away with what she does because she's put in her time with Dad and, by extension, the Syndicate. Elena has to earn her place on the food chain before she can start dictating shit to anyone, especially you."_

_Dominic shook his head. "I don't know about that, Nico. She's my girl, you know. She—"_

" _Let's you fuck her on the regular? I get that, Dom, but right now you should be focused on learning the business, not worrying that Elena might change the entry code to your condo as punishment for working late."_

" _I_ _did_ _miss our reservations for her birthday dinner, Nico," Dominic reasoned but was once again interrupted by his protective older sister._

" _She needs to get over it, Dom, and you need to stop making excuses for her," Nico chastised. "You grew up in the same family I did, Dom. How many birthdays and anniversaries did Dad miss out on because of work?"_

" _A lot," Dominic agreed, "but he always made it up to Ma."_

" _Then you do the same for Elena—_ _after_ _you take care of business for the family," Nico advised. "This is Reno and the family business, not Southern Cali and the drag racing circuit. You love her, I know you do, but she has to accept the fact that she won't always get top billing in your life. If she can't understand that, then she's not the one for you."_

At the time, Dominic had very adamantly defended his relationship with Elena to his sister. After all, she had selflessly agreed to moving back to Reno so he could be closer to his family after Gianni's cancer was diagnosed. Dominic had relocated his crew to Northern Nevada and it was business as usual for the group of hijackers and life with Elena hadn't been all that different than when they had lived in Los Angeles.

Now, after the murder of his former brother-in-law Rocco Agnello, the pressure was on Dominic to prove he was the next logical choice for leading the organization that bore his family's name. The decree that he was to give up running his small crew in order to learn from Jimmy and Nico the daily operations of the multi-million dollar empire had been handed down by his own father. With 99% percent of his time devoted to learning the business, Dominic had been spending more and more time away from the three-bedroom luxury condo he shared with Elena and apparently she had had enough.

Instead of partying with friends with her man by her side at a downtown nightclub, Elena had been stood up just one time too many. Upon his return to their apartment, Dom discovered that Elena had changed the entry code, locking him out yet again. And no amount of cajoling or promises on his part to be more considerate could convince her to open the door.

" _Vhat you do to make next time different, Dominic?!" she shrilled at him through the door._

" _Come on, babe," Dominic banged a futile fist on the heavy and ornate oak door. "I've never broken a promise to you before we moved back to Reno. And it's not like I'm cheating on ya or anything. I'm working, learning the family business. Come on, open up."_

_A litany of Russian curse words he didn't understand assaulted him as Dom leaned his forehead against the door._

" _Cheating I handle!" Elena yelled in a heavy-accented voice. "I know how to fight other woman for my man, but how, Dominic, how I fight against all your family? I try, I lose. I don't try, I still lose. Just go!"_

" _Go?! This is my house!" Dom barked, but quickly took a step back to reassess his current predicament. After taking a deep breath, he started again, "Elena, baby, this is our home. It's just taking me a minute to wrap my head around all the shit I need to know before taking over for my father. I can't do this without you. I need you, baby."_

_Silence greeted Dominic from the other side of the door. For about fifteen seconds he was sure that Elena had walked away, leaving him to plead his case to the enormous door keeping him from his home and his woman._

" _I need time to think," Elena finally spoke, in a considerably calmer and subdued tone. "To your family, I am just Russian girlfriend. To your mother especially I am whore. Only Italian wife matters."_

" _That's not true, Elena," Dominic started but Elena wasn't convinced by the lack of indignation in his voice._

" _Is true," she insisted. "I don't care vhat they think, but now you treat me like whore too."_

_Dominic ran his dominant hand over the stubble on his chin to distract himself from pulling his Glock and shooting the keypad off the door. Apparently, whisking her away from a life as a showgirl at a low-rent Reno casino and giving her a life of luxury is what passed for him treating her like a whore._

" _Show me I matter as much as family, Dominic," Elena stated. "Or I go."_

_Dominic did a double take. "Go? Go where?"_

" _Los Angeles, but tonight, you go! Sleep in your precious office!" This time, Dominic could hear the clip-clopping of her heeled slippers as she retreated into the large apartment and back to their bedroom, leaving him once again homeless for the night._

Which was why he was currently pulling into the driveway of Nico's house at such an ungodly hour only to discover that his favorite big sister was entertaining.

Dominic's eyes narrowed as he pulled his Persimmon-colored Lamborghini Aventador into the driveway, taking great care to park it directly behind the motorcycle that was blocking the entrance of the second garage. Getting out of his car, he slammed the door shut and made his way over to the Harley.

"Son of a bitch," he murmured to himself, his eyebrow rising with very little surprise as he noted the familiar-looking Reaper etched onto the gas tank with "SOA" in bold letters underneath it. "What fucked up shit are you up to, Nico?" he questioned aloud as he nudged the front tire with the toe of his black tasseled Bruno Magli loafers.

Taking a look at his Rolex, Dominic snorted. At nearly half past two in the morning, he had to figure that whatever biker was currently in residence had not rolled up to his sister's house in order to collect a damn vig.

"Jesus Christ!" Dominic cursed as he ran a hand over the five o'clock shadow on his face and chin. "Isn't thirty-five too young for a mid-life fuckin' crisis?"

It was one thing having to eat crow by making amends with SAMCRO for his crew's botched hijacking of a shipment under their protection. It was another thing altogether for Nico to troll skid row for the biker that had nearly killed a member of his crew. There was absolutely no doubt in Dominic's mind as to exactly whom that Harley parked in his spot belonged to.

"Bald-headed, tattooed-freak motherfucker!" Dominic cursed viciously, almost tempted to knock the Harley over on its side. Almost. Suicidal he wasn't, after all.

Besides, better than anyone in their family, Dominic knew that his big sister had every right to move on with her life after the divorce and, especially now, after Rocco's death. It was a secret to no one that their relationship had been more of an arranged marriage than a love connection. The fact that it had lasted as long as it had was a testament of Nico's devotion and loyalty not only to their father, but to the entire Torelli organization.

Shoving his hands into the pocket of his slacks, Dominic briefly thought about the man he had called brother but considered his best friend. As much as he owed Rocco for encouraging him and financing his desire for a crew of his own, Dominic couldn't ignore all that had come to light after his—according to the mounting evidence—well-deserved death. Only after Rocco was no longer around for Dominic to pound into dust did Uncle Jimmy finally decide to share why his ever-dutiful sister had brought shame on the family (according to their mother) by being the first in two generations to seek a divorce.

Little did Rosanna know that illegal gambling and snorting cocaine by the kilo was just the tip of the iceberg. Underage prostitutes, the product of human trafficking, had been a particular (and peculiar) weakness of Rocco's, and something Nico could not abide, no matter how much she loved her family. The fact of that matter was that it had been a small miracle that she had stayed in the marriage for as long as she had. Had his nephew Tonio not been a part of the mix, it was likely that Nico would have killed Rocco herself, if he believed his sister capable of such a thing.

Making his way up the steps, Dominic conceded to himself that if Nico wanted to put a bad marriage behind her by getting plowed by some dirty biker, then so be it. It was no one's business but her own.

_Unless, of course, said dirty biker steps out of line._ Dominic nodded to himself as he punched in his own code on the keypad. _Then it becomes Family business as well._

* * *

Humming under her breath, Nico was hard pressed not to giggle like a teenage girl. As it was, she was practically skipping around her kitchen as she searched the contents of her refrigerator and cabinets, pulling whatever seemed interesting and discarding one item before choosing another. The muted lights of the kitchen cast bright shadows on the gleaming appliances and the marble-tiled floor of the room that was Nico's pride and joy.

A stereotype it may be, but the heart of any Italian home was indeed the hearth and in spite of it feeling like a bribe, the kitchen had completely won Nico over when her father had gifted the house to her and Rocco as a wedding gift. Although Rocco would have preferred a bigger house farther away from her parents, Nico had accepted the house with as much enthusiasm as she could muster for her upcoming marriage and, over the years, had managed to turn the micro-mansion into a home for her and her son. Thankfully, Rocco had no issue with her desire to live a life that was often separate from his and for the most part left her alone. To the outside world, however, Nico remained the ever dutiful wife and the kitchen was, aside from the boardroom, where she felt most at home. There was something therapeutic and satisfying about creating a meal for the people she loved with her own hands.

With its own informal dining room where her family would sometimes gather for Sunday dinner, the kitchen was enormous. The island in the middle of the room was extra long and wide and was beautifully crafted from a large slab of marble that her father Gianni had imported from Italy. Boasting its own sink, the island provided a work-space big enough for when Nico was in the mood to make her own pasta or when it was her turn to host a gathering of the women in her family during tomato canning season. Tonight, however, the cold stone counter was being utilized to put together a tray of gourmet snacks to take back to the hungry beast currently in her bed.

For a brief moment, thoughts of Happy made Nico stop what she was doing in order to take a deep breath. Leaning against the counter, Nico realized just how achy and sore the last several hours with SAMCRO's SAA had actually made her. In spite of the flecks of gray she had spotted in the stubble on his chin, Happy was a man with serious stamina. Actually, in retrospect, Nico had to admit that he was more than a little demanding.

Although she took care of herself and exercised several times a week, at first she had been somewhat hard-pressed trying to keep up with him. Eventually, however, the cardio circuit her personal trainer had developed for her had finally kicked in. Not only was Nico able to match the animal that was Happy in the sack, but _he_ had been the one to call a time-out, claiming his dick was sore. The truth, Nico noted with a self-satisfied smirk, was that she had finally managed to knock the wind out of him. Considering her experience, that was something to be proud of.

When it came to the practice of law and business management, Nico took a back seat to no one, not even in the male-dominated world of organized crime. As Consigliere for the Torelli Syndicate, she was extremely confident in her skills and had the education and experience to back her shit up. In her private life, however, Rocco had been the one to call the shots when it came to their bedroom activities. A virgin on her wedding night, Nico's vanilla sex life revolved around what Rocco wanted and would allow to happen in the confines of their marriage bed. As Nico would later find out, Rocco reserved his "A"-game for the favorite mistresses and whores he had scattered as far as New York City. Over the years, Nico learned to live with her repressed sexual needs, channeling that energy into her work and in raising her son instead.

Now, Happy Lowman was a horse of a different color. The biker, she learned rather quickly, was many shades of kinky and the things that her husband would have considered taboo were routine with Happy. It was quite clear that Happy preferred that his bed-mates be active participants, so even though he had her bending and pulling in ways she never thought possible before meeting him, Nico had enjoyed every minute of it. And in spite of Happy being the one in control during their encounters, which was how he preferred it, Nico quickly found herself making demands of her own that Happy—SUPRISE!—was more than willing to accommodate.

After being trapped in a loveless marriage for 16 years, it was liberating to know that the outlaw biker came with no strings attached. To Nico, romance was overrated and, as far as she could tell, Happy felt the same way. With neither one too keen on muddying up their dirty lovin' with no romance, it was a mutually satisfying, if not temporary, situation for the two of them. Running out of excuses to see each other, it was bound to come to an end unless Jax Teller accepted her offer, something she was still waiting for word on.

Shaking off her thoughts, Nico made her way back to the massive stainless steel refrigerator and pulled open its French doors. Bending down to rustle through its contents, Nico made a mental note to thank her housekeeper for stocking up on all her favorites. Grabbing a jar of olives stuffed with Italian tuna, Nico turned and let out a piercing scream as she clutched the jar to her chest.

* * *

Halfway down the stairs at the back of the house, Happy tensed as he heard what was to his trained ear a woman's panicked screech as it barely echoed in the staircase. Turning to take the stairs three at a time, the biker raced back to the master bedroom to grab his gun still in its holster before running back down the way he had come.

Wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers, Happy quickly but stealthily made his way down the curved stairway, his arm extended at his side as his thumb silently released the safety on his trusty Glock. Doing a quick check behind him, Happy's eyes glittered dangerously in the semi-darkness as he realized that in spite of the fancy security system, some douche bag with shit for brains had successfully breached Tiny's safe haven. Getting past such high tech security was no small feat. Unfortunately, their timing was off and their one big mistake was doing so while _he_ was in residence.

_Fuckin' and killing shit, my two favorite past times_ , Happy smirked to himself as his bare foot hit the landing.

So it was with great surprise, as he edged his way out onto the first floor and into the kitchen, that he spotted Nico walloping her intruder upside the head.

"Jesus, Dom! Why the fuck would you sneak up on me like that?!" Nico chastised her brother as she continued pummeling his shoulder with her balled up fist.

"Looks like someone forgot how to knock first," Happy muttered sourly as he clicked the safety back on his gun.

"He's just lucky I got rid of that damn Rottweiler after he ate my sister's Chihuahua," Nico retorted as she turned and saw Happy and his hand cannon. "Well, hey there, outlaw," she grinned as she sashayed her way over to him. "Were you ready to bust a cap in someone's ass for little ol' me?"

"Yeah," Happy muttered, grabbing Nico around the waist and pulling her into his side. "Still can, if you want me to," he scowled menacingly at Dominic Torelli. "Especially if little brother's gonna give me some shit for being here."

Dom crossed his muscled arms over his broad chest as he eyed the older man. As he had suspected, it was the same biker that had patted down Nico and then tried putting the moves on her during their visit to Charming. "I think sis here will agree that seeing her naked ass in what I'm assuming is your cheap ass t-shirt is punishment enough," he said sarcastically. "And I have no shit to give as even Ray Charles can see that you're an invited guest."

"Good, 'cause it's none of your damn business anyway," Happy retorted rudely.

Noting the challenge in the biker's comment and her brother's suddenly tense shoulders, Nico quickly interjected. "Of all of my siblings, Dom's the only one with enough respect for me not to get involved in my personal life, which I truly appreciate." She watched as her brother turned and made his way to the utensil drawer and grabbed a bottle opener before heading to the refrigerator.

Pulling out a bottle of his favorite beer that Nico always kept in stock for him, Dom popped the top and drained it half dry. "There's that . . . plus the fact that Nico knows how to handle herself. Step out of line with her and what she leaves behind won't be identifiable as human," he said knowingly.

"I doubt that," Happy replied with a sardonic smirk. "Tiny couldn't get rid of me if she tried."

Sensing a double meaning behind his words, Nico caught herself about to grin like a big ol' doofus as she realized how much she liked the sound of that. Quickly clearing her throat, she decided to cut this impromptu gathering short as her plans for the night did not include getting caught in the middle of a scuffle between her little brother and biker lover.

"You must really like my beer," Nico addressed Dom. "Or I have Elena to thank for you almost _literally_ scaring the shit out of me." She watched as her brother shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, must be that time of the month again," he replied cheekily.

"She should really get that checked out then because it's been 'that time of the month' for weeks now," Nico said snarkily. "Well, you know the drill. As usual, there are clean sheets on the bed and clean towels in the guest bathroom," she said pointedly.

"I guess that's my cue to get the fuck outta Dodge," Dominic replied.

"Your timing sucks, but you ain't as dumb as you look," Happy retorted as Nico rubbed her suddenly-aching forehead, practically pleading with her eyes for Dominic to leave the room.

With a grimace that looked like a snarl directed at Happy, Dom grabbed another beer and scooped up the jar of olives that Nico had placed on the counter. "See you in the morning," he said before making his way up the back staircase.

"I sure hope not," she muttered before turning to Happy, who nodded at Dominic's retreating form.

"He make a habit of crashing at your place?" he asked.

"Only when he fights with his girlfriend, which lately, yeah, has become somewhat of a habit," she grinned as wrapped her arms around his neck. "You sure do move pretty fast there, Hap. It must have been like a minute after Dom scared the life out of me before you came a running."

"I can handle my shit," Happy smirked with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows.

"So I've seen."

Quickly switching gears, Happy all but blurted out, "He didn't seem too surprised finding me here. He used to dropping by and catching you in a stranger's cheap ass t-shirt?"

"No, of course not," Nico replied quickly and adamantly and cursed under her breath as she realized just how telling her reaction actually was. Looking up, she could see that it had registered with the biker as well, if the self-satisfied smirk he was wearing was anything to go by. "Don't go getting too full of yourself now, killer. I've been way too busy to properly celebrate my newly-single status. I have every intention of purging my ex-husband's memory by re-christening every room in this house as soon as I can."

"With baby brother chaperoning, things might get a little awkward at the breakfast table come morning, but I'm game," Happy replied. "I have some shit in mind we can do in that big ass bathroom of yours."

Nico grinned and in one smooth motion jumped up, allowing Happy to catch her around her waist as she wrapped her legs around his. "Bathroom sex, huh? That might be a first for me, but I thought you were hungry," she nodded at the tray that she had stacked with treats.

"That shit can wait," Happy said as he turned and headed back up the stairs. "We got all night."

Nico grinned before boldly taking his mouth in a deep kiss.

_All night indeed!_

* * *

"Hmmm," a sleeping Nico murmured as she snuggled herself deep into the thick comforter.

The bright rays of morning sunshine streaming through the large bay windows were moving steadily across the room until finally reaching Nico's side of the bed, warming her half-burrowed face. Rubbing her sleep-filled eyes, Nico smiled as she caught sight of the gorgeous blue and cloudless sky. It was only right that she should be greeted by such a beautiful day after the fan-freakin-tastic night she had enjoyed. With thoughts of waking the man who had made it possible with a well-deserved blow job broadening her smile and making her cheeks ache along with the rest of her, Nico rolled over to catch an eyeful of her sleeping lover.

And found the bed empty.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, now fully awake.

Hoping that Happy was just making use of her bathroom facilities, Nico sat up and frowned as her eyes landed on one of the upholstered chairs in her bedroom's sitting area. Her heart sank a little as she took note of the biker's missing clothes, kutte and boots. Flipping back the covers, Nico scampered out of bed to grab her robe from the other chair to cover her nakedness. Struggling to get it on as she peered through the window, Nico muttered to herself as she realized that the desert palms dotting her property obstructed the view of the driveway.

Crossing the room, she grabbed the television remote on her nightstand and turned on the large flat screen that hung on the wall opposite her bed. Flipping to the channel for the closed-circuit security cameras, Nico nearly stamped her foot as the view of the garage and driveway flicked onto the screen confirming that Happy's bike was indeed gone.

"Fuck!" she cursed. Crossing her arms over her chest with a petulant look on her face, she realized that the outlaw was finally paying her back for ducking out on him. Twice. "Asshole," Nico muttered as she ran her hands through her seriously twisted bed head. "I wasn't done with you yet."

Letting out a deep sigh of resignation, Nico stepped over the remains of the tray of food they had finally managed to consume just after dawn and entered the bathroom. Stripping off her bathrobe, Nico headed towards the glass encased shower but stopped short, the image of Happy fucking her from behind in the midst of the warm waterfall provided by the five separate shower heads flashing before her eyes.

"Damn, he's ruined the shower for me too," she grumbled.

Opting for a nice soak instead, Nico walked over to the large marble bath tub and turned on the gleaming faucets before dumping a generous amount of expensive bath salts into the steaming hot water. As she waited for the tub to fill, she took care of other, more pressing morning tasks, such as relieving herself and brushing her teeth. When ready, Nico finally eased herself into the tub. Using a remote to turn on the concealed sound system, Nico laid her head back on the bath pillow and with a breathy sigh, closed her eyes and waited for the hot scented water to work its magic on her extremely sore muscles.

Although trying to convince herself that she wasn't in the least bit trying to romanticize last night's encounter, Nico was more than a little peeved at Happy for ducking out on her. Subconsciously, she had actually hoped that he might consider hanging around for a day or two before heading back to California. Anticipating a lazy morning in bed with the biker, she had even considered showing off her kitchen skills, which Happy seemed to doubt she possessed, by making him breakfast.

_His loss_ , she thought. However, remembering Dom, her _other_ overnight guest, Nico figured it was all for the best after all. _It was fun while it lasted_.

After nearly an hour in the tub, Nico finally managed to drag herself out and finished her morning toilette. After throwing on a pair of designer yoga pants and a fitted tee, she made her way downstairs to find her brother sitting at the kitchen island scarfing down a bowl of cereal. Wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a white tank top probably left behind after his last sleepover, Dom was thumbing through the local newspaper.

"Heh, look who's doing the Walk of Shame," he taunted without looking up from the paper.

Stopping in front of the counter where a percolator of fresh coffee sat, Nico turned and placed a hand on a cocked hip. "I prefer calling it the 'Stride of Pride', little brother," she teased as Dom rolled his eyes dramatically. "That's right," Nico did a little shimmy before rolling her hips while moving her arms in front of her in a circle, her interpretation of the Cabbage Patch which never failed to embarrass her son Tonio. "I got awesomely laid last night while _you_ were hugging the pillows in my guest room all by your lonesome, so eat your heart out."

"Jesus Christ, Nico!" Dom blurted as he feigned feeling nauseous. "I'm tryin' to eat here!"

Laughing, Nico grabbed a mug and filled it with rich, dark coffee before perching herself on the pub chair next to her brother. "So," she started, taking several sips from her mug before continuing. "What did you do to piss Elena off again?"

Dom flashed her with a look of indignant exasperation that only their mother fell for. "Why would you automatically assume _I_ did something?"

"One, because I know men and men are pigs. In particular, I know you and you can be a bit of an asshole sometimes," Nico explained as her brother gave her a dead-eye glare. "And two, I'm giving Elena the benefit of the doubt, even though I'm pretty sure I know why she put you out on your ass again."

"What the fuck is wrong with you women, huh?" Dom asked soberly. "You need to come with a frickin' manual or something, but I know there ain't a man alive on Earth that can write that shit 'cause women are straight up crazy."

"Aww, poor baby," Nico crooned as she rubbed his bald head. "She got you by the short and curlies?"

"Practically," he replied irritably. "She's not happy and is threatening to go back to LA."

It was a struggle, but Nico managed to contain the exaggerated eye roll she felt coming on. _Let her_ , she wanted to blurt out, but didn't. Although she questioned Elena's feelings for her brother, Nico knew that Dom deeply loved the former exotic dancer. Unlike her sisters, Nico refused to jump on their mother's "Dump the Russian Gold-digger" campaign train.

"Look, I'm not one to sympathize with Elena. I know how important it is to Dad that you, his only son, be the one to take over for him, but it's not always going to be like this, Dom," Nico started. "Right now, you're devoting 90% of your time to the family business and that's how it should be. You are the new face of the Syndicate and you need get out there and let everyone know you're in charge. Until you find the right balance between your duties to the Family and your love life, you need a way to buy yourself some time with Elena."

Dom chuckled bitterly. "How? By making even more promises I have no time whatsoever to keep? That well of good intentions has run the fuck dry."

Releasing her mug, Nico raised her hand and slapped her brother on the back of the head. "How dense are you? Did you not learn one fucking thing from watching Dad handle Ma and her bat-shit craziness? Buy. Her. Something!" Nico advised adamantly. "Reach into those newly-deep pockets of yours and buy her something that will shut her up for a minute."

Dom shook his head in disappointment at his sister. "So you think she's a gold-digger too?"

"That's not what I said, asshole," Nico chastised. "This situation with Elena can have a detrimental effect on your transition to power whether you realize it or not, understand? So stop hearing me with your fucking emotions and start _listening_ to me as counselor for the Syndicate. Shit will go a lot smoother for you once you learn the difference, alright?" she advised.

Sitting back in his chair with his right arm draped over the back, Dom stared at his sister as if she had just fallen out of a plane and landed on her feet. "You talk like this to Dad, too?" he asked bewildered.

"All the fucking time," Nico replied candidly. "So get used to it."

Shaking his head, Dom finally cracked a smile. "Okay, Executive VP of Ball-Busting, what do you suggest?"

"It's simple," Nico started, before pointing a finger at her brother. "And if you weren't a man, you'd understand. Elena is feeling neglected and unimportant, so buy her something that shows you put a lot of heart and thought into it because you love her. At the moment, she can't have her man's undivided attention, but diamonds are a girl's best friend and will always do in a pinch."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me right now?!" Dom laughed. "That's your sage advice, a cliché?"

"It's only a cliché because it's true," Nico said with a shrug of her shoulders as she picked up her mug of coffee and brought it to her lips. "It never failed Dad and you know Ma has enough diamonds to open her own DeBeers showroom."

Recalling all the times his mother threatened to have Gianni's balls on a platter, yet never seeing them fight or exchange harsh words gave Dom pause. _Maybe Nico's right_.

"So," he started slowly, trying not to seem too eager to take her advice. "If I did want to get her something, what do you recommend? Like a tennis bracelet?"

Nico cocked a sardonic eyebrow at her brother. "And you have the nerve to accuse me of tossing around clichés? You know what, forget it," she declared. "I'll take care of it. I'll give Dad's personal buyer a call and have him pick out something nice, okay?"

Dom suddenly narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Nico. "Since you've been working for the Syndicate, how many of Dad's gifts to Ma did he actually pick out himself?"

"None," Nico replied with a smirk. "Dad's motto has always been 'happy wife, happy life.' The 'how' wasn't important as long as the result was always the same and as his consigliere, I make sure shit always lands right side up."

Dom laughed. "Does Ma know?"

"God forbid!" Nico exclaimed. "And if she finds out, I'll know you told her, so please, don't make yourself into a problem I have to fix."

"Pfft!" Dom waved away Nico's playful threat. "You know you can't whack a Don without a unanimous vote by the Underbosses."

Pushing thoughts of her hand in her ex-husband's unsanctioned demise to the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind, Nico laughed. "Absolutely, but you ain't the Don yet, twerp. Just keep focused and let me worry about your personal life."

Dom pushed away his half-eaten bowl of cereal and eyed his sister. "Speaking of personal lives, you know I don't normally get involved in yours—"

"And we're keeping it that way, right?" Nico interrupted.

" _Normally_ , I wouldn't," Dom nodded. "But you bangin' biker scum ain't normal, Nic."

"You don't know him well enough to call him scum, Dom," Nico started defensively. "How about giving me the same courtesy I give you regarding Elena?"

"You can't compare him to Elena," Dom replied somewhat affronted. "I love her—whoa! What the fuck, Nico?! You in love with that asshole?!"

"Hey!" Nico exclaimed, ignoring the fact that her heart rate had accelerated exponentially at the mere mention of Happy and love in the same sentence. "Does love automatically have to be part of the equation when it comes to a single woman having sex? Without it, I'm the Whore of Babylon?!"

"I would never call you a whore—"

"Maybe not, but just now, I'm sure you were marinating on it," she insisted. Opening her mouth to continue, Nico suddenly found herself with lips puckered up like a fish as Dom grabbed her cheeks in one hand in an effort to focus her attention on what he had to say.

"I'm not judging you for getting your groove back, Stella," Dom started. "I'm just questioning the wisdom of doing it with that douchebag and in your own house too. I hope you made sure nothing's missing 'cause I saw your 'friend' practically tip-toeing it the fuck outta here early this morning."

Nico placed a hand on his arm, gently pushing it away and releasing her face from his death grip. "Trust me," she started as she massaged feeling back into her cheeks with the tips of her fingers. "It's not that serious and I have it under control."

"So she said shortly before her hacked up body was found in a suitcase on the side of the road by joggers," Dom said as if reading it from the newspaper opened in front of him.

"Such a fucking drama queen!" Nico rolled her eyes. "Taking lessons from Gia, I see." Just then, loud chiming echoed though the house, indicating someone's presence at her front door. "Who the hell?" she muttered before thoughts of Happy maybe having a change of heart invaded her mind. Practically falling out of her chair, she dashed to the wall by the refrigerator and tapped on the security touch screen. Dom raised an alarmed eyebrow as he watched her face blanch.

"Who is it?" he said with concern as he stood up ready to do battle.

Nico flipped her hair over her shoulders as she eyed him with slight apprehension. "It's the attack of Ma's clones!"

"Fuck! Sorry, Nic," Dom said as he turned to head for the stairs. "But you're on your own with that shit."

"Don't you dare leave me!" she practically shrieked. "It's always been us against them, little brother. You can't bail on me now!"

Cursing himself for his loyalty to Nico, Dom reluctantly turned back and hovered behind her as she watched the figures on the screen. "Don't answer and maybe they'll go away," he suggested hopefully.

Praying that he was right, Nico bit her lip and focused on the two women on the small screen. She winced as she heard the doorbell chime again and knew they were digging in their designer heels and waiting her out. Gingerly pressing the intercom button, she eavesdropped on her sisters.

" _Don't stop, Donnie. Nico's home. She's just playing possum."_ Nico and Dom heard Gianna say petulantly. _"Besides, Dom's car is parked out front."_

"Really, Dom?! Why didn't you park in the garage last night?" Nico muttered through gritted teeth as she turned to glare at her brother.

"Because your _boy toy_ was blocking the fuckin' door with his ride," Dom shot back. "Look, they know we're here. Might as well let 'em in." Returning to his seat, Dom sat down to finish his cereal as the doorbell continued to chime relentlessly. "Open the damn door and stop that god awful chiming already, will ya?" he complained through a mouthful of cereal.

"Fine!" Nico stamped her foot with each number she punched into the keypad, finally allowing entry to her two annoying older sisters. "God, had I known this was coming down on my ass this morning, I might have drowned myself in the tub."

"I might have taken a cue from your _boyfriend_ and hit the bricks as soon as my ass rolled out of bed," Dom agreed, ignoring Nico's indignant glare as they heard the clicking of high heels on the polished hardwood floor.

"Where are you two?" Donatella yelled.

"In the kitchen!" Nico called out. Running her fingers through her hair, Nico turned in time to face her sisters as they barreled past the dining area. Always impeccably dressed, it surprised no one that the two women looked ready for lunch at an upscale restaurant this early in the morning.

Donatella, the oldest at 42, carelessly tossed her long and curly hair away from her face. At 5'8, Donnie-as everyone in the family called her-lived on a perpetual diet in an effort to lose the last 10 pounds of the pregnancy weight she had gained five years ago. Long-legged and permanently tanned thanks to her year-round membership at a trendy tanning salon, Donatella still managed to retain a youthful complexion and supple skin. Dressed in a chic white Armani pantsuit, and strappy red heels, she looked more runway ready than soccer mom.

Her younger cohort (and life-long partner-in-crime) Gianna was dressed in head to toe Dolce & Gabana. The long-sleeved black and yellow dress clung to her generous curves, including her recently sprouted baby bump. Also 5'8 and 39 years old, the faux redhead was a younger, softer version of their mother. Gia was also the currently reigning winner in the never-ending favorite daughter contest, having conceived Rosanna's soon-to-be tenth grandchild and squeaking past Donnie to snag the title.

Only three years apart, Donatella and Gianna were as close as twins and the best of friends, serving as each other's Maid of Honor in their respective weddings. As disciples of Rosanna Torelli's strongly held views of what made a proper Italian housewife, neither of them could make head nor tails of their younger, more independent and obviously touched in the head sister, even if they loved her to pieces.

At the moment, however, neither of them was at all happy with the sight before them.

Gianna tsked as Donatella shook her head in disapproval as they checked out Nico's morning ensemble. "Oh my Gawd, Nico," Donatella drawled. "What the hell are you wearing? You look like you're heading down to Torelli Waste Management to start a shift as a garbage collector!"

"That's not fair, Donnie," Gianna said as she walked around her younger sister, eyeing her up and down caustically. "The uniforms those men wear are custom made. The garbage collectors on Daddy's payroll at least take pride in how they present themselves."

Nico gave Gianna the hairy eyeball as Dom nearly choked on his cereal. "Gee, thanks for sticking up for me, Gia," she groused. "With you in my corner, who needs enemies?"

"I'm only giving you constructive criticism, which is what Ma would do if she were here," Gianna replied. Bending down, her 3" heels giving her an additional height advantage over Nico, Gianna air kissed her little sister on both cheeks to avoid smearing her perfectly applied makeup.

"Except Gia does it out of love," Dom teased, prompting Nico to stick her tongue out at him. It never failed. Not five minutes around her siblings and Nico, a high-powered mob lawyer, found herself regressing 25 years.

"Hey, Dom, get me a bowl of that cereal," Gianna suddenly demanded. "I'm hungry."

"You're always fuckin' hungry 'cause you're always fuckin' pregnant," he replied as he got up to grab another bowl and a spoon. "Don't you and Enzo know anything about birth control?"

"Hey! Watch your mouth around the baby," Gianna cradled her stomach fondly. "She can hear you."

"Oh Christ Almighty, please help me," Nico muttered under her breath.

"Oh hush," Donatella said as she grabbed a mug and helped herself to a cup of coffee. "Gia's right. The baby's at an extremely sensitive stage right now, something you would know had you read those books I gave you when you were pregnant."

"Those books did nothing but scare the shit out of me," Nico replied.

"That was just first time jitters, Nico," Donatella responded with authority. "Had you had another kid or two, you would know that _and_ my poor nephew wouldn't be an only child."

"Aw, come on! You _really_ gonna start up that old shit again?" Dom moaned.

"Stop saying 'shit', you moron," Gianna said loudly as she shoveled cereal into her mouth.

"Oh, 'cause moron is so pleasant, huh?" Dom shot back.

"It's better than shit," Gianna retorted before slapping her hand over her mouth. "Stop making me say shit!" she yelped.

As the squabbling continued, Nico barely managed to keep herself from running to the nearest exit as she was sucked into its orbit. Snatching Dominic's now empty cereal bowl away from him, Donatella gave Nico the third degree on her failure to provide their little brother with proper nutritional sustenance. Nico could do nothing but watch as Donatella grabbed the kitchen apron hanging from a hook and headed for the refrigerator where she pulled out eggs, bacon and milk.

As Gianna got up to help, saying that they might as well make Dom some pancakes too, Nico quietly exited the room and headed up the stairs.

_Maybe after doting on Dom's ass, they'll all leave so I can enjoy the rest of the day in peace._

She was so wrong.

* * *

**Glossary**

**Consigliere** **: An adviser, especially to a crime boss.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nicoletta and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Charming, California – Sunday, March 6, 2011** _

With T-M closed for business as usual on a Sunday, Happy was surprised to find that the lot was full as he roared through the gate. Parking his ride in its customary slot, he made quick work of divesting himself of all of his road gear before unhitching his saddle bags. Today, however, the SAA had an extra piece of baggage with him—the backpack containing the Club's payoff he had retrieved that morning from Jury's safekeeping before making his way back to Charming.

Overall, his most recent road trip had been a success. The time spent away and crashing with other charters had given him the opportunity to think shit through concerning his future with SAMCRO. Between visiting the Indian Hills and Las Vegas charters coupled with an unexpected overnight stop in Reno, making the jump to the State of Nevada was starting to look like a serious option to him.

_Especially with Tiny as part of the equation._

For reasons he had yet to acknowledge, Happy felt a sudden and salacious smirk creep across his face thanks to thoughts about the sweet bit of sexy responsible for bringing his road trip to an incredibly satisfying conclusion. For the first time since crossing paths, Happy held the upper hand against Nico Torelli. Not only had he thoroughly and awesomely fucked her six ways from Sunday, but  _he_  had been the one who managed to do the fuck-and-duck this time around.

 _Poor little bitch is gonna have a tough time sleeping in that bed of hers without thinking 'bout me making her cream and scream in it_ , he thought with extreme self-satisfaction and confidence.

Looking back on his abrupt departure during his ride back to Charming, Happy had felt a twinge of regret having taken off so soon after their epic hook up. If it hadn't been for the fact that Jax was expecting his return that afternoon, Happy might have extended his visit and probably would have ended up overstaying his welcome, even with her little prick of a brother sticking around. As long as the asshole didn't interfere with his dick games, Happy had no fucks to give one way or another, not as long as he got to hit that tight sweet pussy again and again.

It seemed that if—and it was starting to look less like "if" and more like "when"—Happy decided to jump charters once SAMCRO was completely out of the gun trade, settling down in Indian Hills might have its fringe benefits, especially if he could have Tiny as his beck-and-call bitch. For now, however, such thoughts had to go on the back burner as it was time to get back in the saddle of handling Club business here in Charming. Happy headed straight into the Clubhouse and found a rather large group of his brothers casually relaxing or nursing major hangovers after a wild Saturday night of partying.

"Well, looky-looky who finally followed the trail of bread crumbs back home," Kozik said as he stood up from his prone position over the pool table.

"Yo," Happy replied as he dumped his saddle bags on the couch and made his way over to two-thirds of the Wolf Pack.

Casually leaning against the wall holding a pool cue, Tig blew out a stream of smoke from his lips as he eyed his newly-returned brother with confusion. "The fuck? Back so soon?" He was incredulous. "I thought you'd be only half way through fucking a path of destruction through Jury's stable."

Happy shrugged his shoulders. "I promised Jax I'd haul ass back here with this shit," he hefted the backpack on his shoulders. "He around?"

"Yeah," Kozik replied as he lined up for another shot. "In the chapel with Bobby and Clay."

Wondering why and hoping that shit hadn't gone sideways in his absence, Happy nodded and headed towards the chapel. "A'ight," he said. "I'll catch up with you two later."

Using his knuckles to rap sharply on the door, Happy heard a muffled "Enter" and did as he was told.

Jax Teller was sitting in his customary place at the head of the table. On either side of him sat Bobby and Clay. With a couple of pens haphazardly stuck in Bobby's shaggy hair, a large calculator, a notepad and several large stacks of money on the table, it was apparent that the Club had received their latest payment from the Cartel and the Treasurer was in the process of divvying it up for distribution among those who sat at the table.

 _Perfect timing too_ , Happy thought.  _Ma has really been busting my balls about a new refrigerator._

"Hey, Hap," Jax said with a grin as he stood up to give Happy a welcoming bro hug. "You made good time."

"Easy peasy," he replied. Offering a hand to both Bobby and Clay, he continued. "I didn't want to be on the road with this shit any longer than I had to."

Happy handed the backpack over to Bobby, who grinned. "Fuck, bro! This shit is heavy," he chuckled as he dropped it on the redwood table. Unzipping the bag, Bobby whistled softly as he noted the stacks of 50s and 100s. "This is a sweet haul."

Clay proffered a huge grin at the sight of the cash practically brimming over the top of the bag. "That is a really nice chunk of change you've brought in for the Club, Hap. Good job, son."

"I take it was a smooth transaction," Jax queried as he took his seat again. "No problems with setting up a meet with the Syndicate's contact?"

Happy shook his head solemnly. "None at all."

"And if there had been, there ain't shit going down that Hap couldn't handle, am I right?" Clay said grandly. "I have to tell you, brother, Jimmy Cacuzza was really impressed about the job you did. Called up to let us know how much he appreciated you taking care of their little 'housekeeping' problem."

 _Well, actually, Jimmy called_ _me_ _,_ Jax wanted to say but was silent as the older man continued to praise his brother. Jax knew, however, that his next words were a direct dig at him.

"I'm just glad to know that you still have the skills, Hap," Clay said as he tapped the ash from his cigar into the ashtray on the table before cocking a head in Jax's direction. "It'd be a real shame to neuter a man with Hap's skill set."

Happy watched as Jax eyed his stepfather, but grinned inwardly in approval when the younger man refused to rise to the bait. Over the last few months, tensions were running a little high between the older man and his stepson. With Jax announcing several months ago that he and Piney were taking over running Unser Trucking, a little bad blood seemed to be broiling between the two. Clay Morrow was a hard man who didn't adapt to change easily. He was an old school biker-type who preferred keeping the status quo as it had been for the past 20 years, and that meant having the Club keep its focus on gun running.

On the other hand, after their stint in Stockton, it was clear that Jax was more than ready to move the Club in a direction opposite of what got them locked up in the first place. While Jax had not yet made his desire known to the table at large, it wouldn't surprise Happy if Clay could already smell the blood in the water, signaling that a change was a coming. With his hackles up, Clay never wasted an opportunity to slam the proposed resurrection of the porn studio. It had been muddled in red tape and at a standstill for almost two years now and to Clay's way of thinking, that was a clear indication that the project was doomed and should be abandoned permanently.

"Speaking of neutering, Hap," Jax said as he ignored Clay, "you're in danger of losing your testicles."

Happy cocked his head in askance. "What the fuck did I do?"

"It's what you  _didn't_  do, which was show up for dinner at our house before leaving Charming last weekend. Needless to say, my old lady's a bit tight with you right now." Jax leaned back in his chair as first Bobby and then Clay started chuckling, their mirth dispelling the formerly tense situation.

"Tight?" Bobby laughed. "Marley-girl practically spits nails anytime your name is mentioned. You better get your ass over there—quick, fast and in a fucking hurry."

"Yeah, especially since Doc still walks around with that KA-BAR in her boot," Clay added. "Ever since the croweaters have been steering clear of Jax here, she's been itching for a little target practice."

Happy sighed as he ran his hand over his face. His sister had taken this settling down with Jax business to heart and had shifted into what was clearly Gemma-mode. As of late, Marlowe had been demanding that Happy and her new-found father Kozik come for dinner at least once a week. Not that his stomach minded at all, but only his Ma got away with making such demands on his time.

 _Shit, maybe Clay's right. I am getting fuckin' soft_ , he thought wryly.

"Don't fight it, brother," Jax advised with a grin. "It hurts a lot less if you just let her have her way once in a while. Go grab a beer and relax for a bit. It's gonna take us about another hour to wrap this shit up before we head over to my place," he nodded towards the pile of money to be distributed on the table. "Just think about the nice chunk coming your way and everybody will have a happy Sunday."

For a second, Happy considered asking for combat pay before coming face to face with his little sister again.

* * *

The Teller-Guthrie home was filled with the aroma of good cooking and childish laughter as its two occupants waited for the man of the house to return. The younger of the two had excellent hearing and happily announced his father's arrival as soon as he heard multiple bikes pull into the carport.

"Arlo, Arlo! Daddy's home," Abel shrieked from the living room floor, his Lego blocks momentarily forgotten as he struggled to stand up in his haste.

In the kitchen, Marlowe Guthrie had just plopped onto the stove the heavy Dutch oven containing the huge chicken that had been slow-roasting all afternoon. Using her forearm to swipe away the beads of sweat collecting on her forehead, she yanked the pot holders off and tossed them on the counter. "Wait, baby boy. I'll get the door."

Now nearly 2½ years old, opening doors had become Abel's latest and most practiced accomplishment. After one untimely interruption too many, Jax had threatened to put deadbolts on every door in the house in order to keep his inquisitive little man out of grown up business.

There was no need to worry, however, as before Abel could reach the front door, Marlowe heard a key slip into the lock and grinned as her old man swaggered into their home and greeted his son.

"Hey, little man. Look who I brought home for dinner," Jax exclaimed happily, with one eye on Abel and the other on his old lady.

Without missing a beat, Marlowe's eyes quickly narrowed into angry slits. Shaking her head, she let out an audible huff of disdain as she recognized the tall, lean figure of her brother standing behind Jax even before her old man had fully stepped into the house.

After unwrapping himself from around his father's leg, Abel made a beeline around Jax and straight to his uncle. "Happy! Happy!" Abel flashed a huge grin up at the biker that towered over him as he wrapped his arms around his muscular leg.

"Hey, look! Someone who's actually excited to see me," Happy said a little sourly, trying to mask his growing fondness for the little tyke and failing miserably.

"Obviously two-year olds are horrible judges of character," Marlowe muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Turning to Jax, Happy sneered, "I thought you said she wanted to see me."

"I did!" Marlowe retorted. " _Last_  weekend, you douche nozzle!"

Jax's lips twitched in an effort to suppress a smile. "Bro, I also told you she was pissed," he said in his defense, only to be met by two pairs of angry eyes.

"Ohhhh, you've got some nerve rolling up in here without so much as a phone call to apologize after standing me up," she growled at Happy.

"What is up with you? Why are you always acting like you're on the fuckin' rag?" Happy growled back. "That's it, ain't it?! You're on the rag."

"Asshole!" Marlowe said through gritted teeth mostly to keep Abel, who was looking up at her with wide eyes, from understanding. "That's the go-to answer for you anytime you piss a woman off, isn't it? It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I spent my entire Sunday cooking for YOU even though I was on schedule to work the third shift that night. I'm not some road slag you can blow off without a second thought, Hap."

"What's the big fuckin' deal? I'm here now, okay?" Happy offered, his way, no doubt, of apologizing with the expectation of Marlowe falling all over herself to cut him some slack.

Marlowe grimaced. "No, it's not okay. You, of all people, make a commitment with a family member and I know you'll walk through the fires of hell to keep it. What does that say about me, Hap? I'm not family anymore?"

"Where the fuck is this coming from, Marley?!" Happy nearly sputtered before turning to Jax. "Jump in anytime, brother. I could use a little help here."

Jax cleared his throat as Marlowe turned her blazing gaze onto him. "Babe, I did send Hap out on Club business."

"Surprise, surprise," Marlowe rolled her eyes. "A patch sticking up for another patch. Who'da thunk it?"

"But in all fairness, Hap, I didn't say you had to leave right away," Jax continued as both brother and sister looked at him in bewilderment.

"Really, bro?" Happy shook his head. "Afraid the old lady's gonna keep ya from parking your bike in her garage, so you throw me under the bus?"

"You're such a pig, you know that?" Marlowe smirked distastefully.

Happy turned on Marlowe. "A pig woulda said he was afraid his piece would put her pussy on lockdown. I cleaned it up for the kid's sake."

"And for that I  _don't_  thank you." Marlowe shook her head. "It was your loss anyway. It'll be a long while before I put out another spread like last week's."

"Whatcha make?" Happy asked with a raised eyebrow.

Suddenly, an evil grin spread across Marlowe's face. "Nothing special. Just all of your favorites: roast pork, rice and frijoles, fried sweet plantains, and Tia's famous potato salad. I even made flan for dessert."

Happy's shoulders collapsed upon hearing the feast he had missed out on just to get an early start on his trip. "Ah shit, really? Ma's potato salad? The kind with egg in it?"

"Yup," Marlowe said, now deeply satisfied to have witnessed his sudden disappointment. "All the yummy stuff that makes you fat, which is why, at the request of my old man, pork and red meat have been temporarily banned from this house, along with some starches."

"Damn. How temporary is 'temporarily'?" Happy asked expectantly.

"At least until I drop the extra ten pounds I've been hauling around on my ride," Jax replied and then grinned. "Your sister feeds me good."

"Motherfuckers," Happy muttered. Looking down to see Abel still hanging onto his leg as he sang and talked to himself, Happy shook his bald head and growled at Jax, "Your clone starts humping my leg, I'm gonna have to shoot the little fucker."

"Hey, watch your mouth around my baby," Marlowe admonished, followed by a well-placed punch to Happy's shoulder, reminding him that his little sister was more powerful than she looked. "And if anyone's in danger of ending up with a bullet in his behind, it's sure not him."

Having done little to hide just how much of a kick he was getting from watching his old lady and her brother going at it, Jax stooped down to pick up his son. "A'ight, enough. I think it's time you two make nice and hug it out," he ordered with a grin. "Go on now."

"You heard your Pres," Marlowe taunted. "Time for you to apologize."

"That's not what he said!" Happy shot back. Reaching out, he roughly ruffled her hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. "There, we're good. Now let's eat. I'm starving."

* * *

Flicking a toothpick around his mouth with his tongue, Happy patted his food-bloated belly contentedly as he watched Marlowe lead Abel away to his room for a bath before putting him to bed. With dinnertime over, Happy and Jax sat in the living room relaxing with a bottle of Jack and cigarettes. Now that they were alone, Happy decided to take the opportunity to talk to his President about a couple of matters he had been reluctant to bring up earlier in the Chapel.

"You did good today, keeping your temper in check with Clay," Happy said as he gave his brother and leader an approving nod. "You know he was just yanking your chain, right?"

"My whole life, man, but that shit's starting to get real old, real fast," Jax replied crossly and sighed. "I guess it's just an indication of what's to come, especially with what we have lined up. Actually, besides filling your belly, I wanted you to stop by so I could let you in on what's going on with Charming Heights."

"So there's some new shit going down?"

"Oh, yeah." Jax nodded before taking a gulp from his glass of whiskey. "It seems that the one shithead council member who was holding up the works had no intention of folding. Without a unanimous vote, the project would have been dead in the water."

Happy smiled at his President's sudden smirk. "Would have, huh? Does that mean Charming Heights is a go?"

Jax nodded. "Shit was put in motion while you were gone. Charming Heights is a definite go. Contractors are already all on board. It's just a matter of setting a date for breaking ground."

Happy leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "I take it Clay doesn't know this yet," he said and Jax shook his head. "A high-end development is gonna bring in more law enforcement, threatening our gun business."

"Which we are trying to free ourselves from," Jax reminded Happy somewhat strongly.

"We both know this," Happy replied. "Clay don't. This'll really piss him off, especially if it gets back to him that  _you_  put it all in motion," he said wryly as he sipped his drink.

"And here I am with no fucks left to give," Jax said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "I'm not overly concerned with what does and doesn't piss Clay off. Besides, I don't expect my back room deal with Hale ever getting back to the old man, and if by some chance it does, so the fuck what? I love him, but I love my Club more and right now it's  _my_  Club. Even if I confess my part in helping Charming Heights go through, there's nothing he can do to stop it now. Times, they are a-changin', brother," Jax said evenly.

"Yeah, I guess they are," Happy said thoughtfully as he lit another smoke. Abruptly changing the subject, he casually said, "Guess who was the bagman for the money drop in Indian Hills."

"Who?"

"Nico Torelli," he said succinctly and watched as Jax's blond brows rose.

"Interesting," Jax commented. "That's a bit below her pay grade, ain't it?"

"Yeah, I thought so, too," Happy replied. "I'm thinking Jimmy wasn't the only one impressed by my work."  _In more ways than one_ , he thought with a smirk.

"You know," Jax started. "I've been giving her offer some serious consideration."

"Really?" Happy said, somewhat perplexed by the pleasant heat that rushed through his veins.

Jax nodded. "Marlowe recently made some valid points about completely cleaning house by getting rid of 'outside contractors' with any loyalty to Clay, especially our old buddy Rosen."

"Makes sense, brother," Happy agreed. "That shark in a suit has been sucking at Clay's teat for what now, twenty years?"

"And it's time to cut him off," Jax said vehemently. "So far, it's looking like Nico Torelli might be the one to replace him."

"What about Ope?" Happy asked curiously. "Last time we discussed this I got the feeling he wasn't too keen on her."

"You know Ope, brother. Sometimes, he can overthink shit too much and it worried him that Nico knew so much about Club business," Jax explained. He paused to take a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke. "You're the only one that has really seen her in action and I know you're open to working with Nico again. That alone says a lot about the lady, but in order to legitimize the Club she's gonna need to know where all the bodies are buried, so to speak. Can we trust her to be a friend of the Club?"

Happy carefully considered his words. Putting aside the fact that he liked banging the hell out of her, Nico Torelli was a smart woman. Fierce, headstrong, and probably a little spoiled, but she was definitely a loyal and cold-blooded defender of her family, a trait he admired. In order for Jax to succeed in filling the hole left in the Club's collective pocket by moving away from gun running, SAMCRO needed to have a smart and savvy lawyer doing their legit dirty work. One that thought like an outlaw but who had an air of legitimacy in the boardroom. And they needed one who was loyal to Jax, unlike Scott Rosen whose long-standing relationship with Clay made it impossible for him to shift his loyalties to the new President. Although he kept his opinions to himself unless asked, it had occurred to Happy more than once that Rosen had probably been taking direction from Clay Morrow all along. Knowing how opposed the former president was to peddling pussy, Rosen's intentional incompetence was the only explanation he could come up with why the Club's porn business, with its potential of making millions, had failed repeatedly to relaunch.

Happy smirked to himself. If there was one thing Nico Torelli knew how to do best—aside from sucking a cock—it was finding legit ways to make money. "I think she'll do right by us," Happy replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "But what do I fuckin' know? I ain't the one that's got a head for this shit like you do,  _nerd_."

Jax chuckled. "Yeah, then I guess it's about time I put this head to good use and get some thinking done."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nicoletta and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

**A/N: Hello and happy new year! I wish I could say that I'm glad to be back, but the truth is I'm only back as beta to my former beta WebStar. WebStar, like many of you, is completely dedicated to the SOA fandom and has been eager to see this story continue. I, unfortunately, seem to have misplaced my mojo and am having a very, very difficult time writing. So until further notice, WebStar will continue posting updates for this story under my moniker. Hopefully, acting as her beta will spark my juices to start flowing once again.**

**Please be kind to WebStar, without whom I would have never been able to write any of my stories, going way back to** **Charming's Worst Kept Secret** **. Knowing WebStar and her dedication, you can probably expect weekly updates for this story, but in order to make that happen, she needs to feel the love. So if you read, please review as it makes all the difference in the world.**

**Thanks to everyone who has PM'd me just to check up on me. I really appreciate your love and concern and I hope to be back to my old self soon.**

**Hugs, Harlee Quinn (beta)**

* * *

_**Charming, California – Sunday, March 6, 2011** _

Stretched out on his bed in his dorm smoking a cigarette, the trails of blue smoke spiraling overhead, Happy pondered his discussion with Jax and hoped that he had given the younger man some sound advice. As far as Tiny was concerned, Happy figured that Jax would make the right decision. It was his other concern that had him slightly troubled.

Jax's belief that Clay Morrow would be dealt with easily was something that _did_ concern the SAA. The last thing Jax needed to do was underestimate the older man or believe that just because Clay was out of the seat of power that he couldn't still be a threat.

 _An old toothless bear still has long claws that could rip a man apart_ , as Amelia Lowman was often fond of saying. Although Jax knew Clay as a stepfather, mentor and brother, he didn't have the benefit of knowing him the way Happy did.

The two men had a long history together—first in the bowels of Chino when Clay, along with JT, had befriended Happy as a young man—and then afterwards when both men offered him a job in their garage and had taken him under their wing, allowing him to prospect with the Club and eventually patching him in. In the more than 20 years that he had known Clay, he had come to admire the tough son of a bitch. With a mind like a steel trap, he had extraordinary organizational skills and the ability—probably developed during his time as a sky soldier with the 173rd Airborne Brigade during 'Nam—to assess situations and come up with alternate scenarios to get the upper hand over his enemies.

Clay's motivations and feelings ran deep. That had become painfully clear during the War of Bloody '92. It was a time that Happy rarely liked to think about because, quite frankly, there were aspects of his own participation in the course of events that he would rather forget. A lot of crazy shit had gone down in that short two-year period. When the dust had settled and the smoke had cleared, it was Clarence Morrow who had stood as President of the Sons of Anarchy, picking up the mantle after JT's death.

Looking at his kutte neatly hanging on a hanger over the back of his door, Happy examined the patches he had earned during his tenure with the Club. Sitting below his newest patch declaring him the Club's Sergeant-at-Arms, was the patch that identified him as one of the Unholy Ones. Of the several patches that could be earned by a member, this patch was probably considered the most important by many and most feared by some. Happy had only ever come across a handful of brothers in the entire Club that had earned the patch, three of them in the mother charter alone—Clay, Kozik and himself.

The Unholy One patch was worn only by those who were chosen and willing to sacrifice loyalty to an individual club member for the overall good of the Club. Club-sanctioned murder was what it boiled down to, being called upon to kill another member on behalf of the Club.

The patch symbolized the extreme lengths and dedication that a member would go to protect the Club. The fact that Clay had earned the patch was proof that he was willing to do whatever it took for the benefit of the Club as a whole. It was Happy's fear that Clay may believe himself justified to go to that extreme again once Jax's plans were finally revealed.

It wasn't Happy's Club to lead, however. All he could promise himself was that he would do whatever was needed to make shit run smoothly for Jax as he tried to accomplish his father's dream of setting SAMCRO on the right path once again. As family men, both Jax and Opie had much to lose should the Club continue running guns. Although he thrived on the danger and loved the money selling guns provided, Happy could understand their desire to keep their families safe because of his own concern for the safety of his sister.

But he also knew Clay Morrow in a why Jax Teller did not. Backed into a corner, Clay would take whatever actions necessary to protect and defend what in his mind was an assault against him and his way of life. Because of that, Happy was quietly resigned to the fact that he could be called upon to complete another act as an Unholy One.

* * *

"You know," Marlowe said drowsily as she cuddled into Jax's side, "there was something else I meant to talk to you about before you tackled me onto the bed."

It had been only a couple of hours since Happy had left after dinner. After quickly cleaning up in the kitchen, Jax and Marlowe had decided to take advantage of the fact that Abel was dead to the world and had retired to their own bedroom. Now, Marlowe figured that in the afterglow of their lovemaking was as good a time as any to bring up something that had the potential of being a delicate subject.

"What's up, darlin'?" Jax asked as Marlowe picked up her head from his chest to latch onto his blue eyes.

"I've been thinking," she started, "I think it's time for Abel to start associating with other kids his age. Maybe we should consider putting him in preschool."

"Really?" Jax quirked an eyebrow. "You don't think he's too young for that right now?"

"Nope, I don't," she replied succinctly as Jax watched her sit up. "He's an incredibly smart little boy but he needs to venture outside his social circle of adults down at the Clubhouse and start associating with other children. I think a playful learning environment will go a long way in his development and will keep him from growing up socially awkward." Marlowe reached out to squeeze his hand. "I know what it's like to be a misfit, Jax. I spent a huge part of my childhood alone and without friends. School was a nightmare and even though I owe Hap my life, he kinda took pride in my anti-social tendencies and helped me cultivate a big chip on my shoulder by teaching me not to take shit from anyone. I could throw a nose-breaking punch by the fourth grade, but didn't know how to make friends. I don't want that for my sweet little boy."

Jax smiled at her possessive reference to Abel as hers. Reaching up, he pulled her back into his arms. "I get what you're saying, babe, and I'm totally convinced, but you do realize that there is one person who might have a problem with us putting Abel in preschool, right?"

"And?" Marlowe said as her eyebrow rose satirically.

" _And_ ," Jax said with a sigh. "I have your back on this. If you think it's a good idea for Abel to start preschool, it's your call."

"Good," she replied before snuggling into his arms again. "Because I already started looking at a couple of places."

"Of course you did." Jax smirked as he kissed her forehead. _Does she even realize how much she sounds like Gemma right now, protecting her family? God, I really do love this woman._

"Yup. One of the benefits of working for the County is discounted daycare and preschool. One of my co-workers takes her little girl to the one at St. Thomas and highly recommends it. It'll only be a couple of days a week and with it right here in Charming, it won't inconvenience Elyda or any one of us to pick him up."

"I've already bought what you're selling, darlin'." Jax chuckled.

With a wicked smile, Marlowe grabbed his semi-hard cock. "Then by all means, let me show you my gratitude."

* * *

_**Tuesday, March 8, 2011** _

The day had broken in NorCal to a sky filled with heavy cloud cover. With showers of rain that varied between a light drizzle to swift and sudden downpours, the 50 degree weather was even chillier than usual. The last place any of the mother charter wanted to be was in the soupy cold shit at the Club's gun depot on Elliott Oswald's private and gated property.

Despite several layers of clothing—including a blue-checked button down shirt worn over a long-sleeved t-shirt, a thick dark gray SAMCRO sweatshirt with hoodie and his beloved kutte—the dampness created by the brisk March wind and rain still managed to penetrate Jackson Teller's bones as he stood quiet and composed in the entrance way of the warehouse. The SAMCRO Pres considered it something of a wonder that he wasn't burning up as he was hard pressed to contain his ever-growing anger towards the two old assholes standing only a few yards away from him.

Today's run to hand over the Cartel's payment for the Irish merch was a relatively simple one. With Romeo and his crew long gone after picking up their merch several days before, it was now an easy matter relaying their payment—minus the Club's cut—to the RIRA's contact, one Connor Malone. Although Clay was the point man for the operation, Jax made sure to be present on each and every run that was related to the Cartel business. The last thing he wanted was Clay reliving his glory days as former Club President.

Although taking a back seat in this situation was particularly infuriating, it was the direct result of actions Jax had taken to protect his Club. Last summer, he had made the executive decision to use merch that the Irish Kings had sent for the sole purpose of a show-and-tell during their negotiations with the Cartel. However, Jax had seen no other way out for his Club during the mini-war that had erupted between the Galindo Cartel and its rivals, Lobos Sonora. Even though used with the best of intentions and ultimately triumphant, which made quite an impression on Romeo and his crew, Jax had been cut out of any further dealings by the Irish regarding the Cartel.

Even though being pushed out still chafed Jax raw, in the long run he knew it was a necessary evil until such time as the Club would be done with gun running forever.

Today, however, Connor had not shown up alone. Besides his usual complement of Irish expats, Jax's lips had twisted into a snarl as he saw Galen O'Shay exit the SUV along with his subordinate.

The old bastard's arrival was just the icing on his shit cake as Galen took particular satisfaction in showing Jax just whom he believed was really in charge whenever the opportunity presented itself. Although Galen proclaimed Jax irresponsible for using his show-and-tell merch without authorization, Jax knew his feelings of animosity were more personal than that. In Galen's mind, not only had Jax usurped his old friend Clay Marrow as leader of SAMCRO, but he held Jax solely responsible for the death of Father Kellan Ashby. As a young lad living on the streets of Armagh, the priest had been something of a mentor to Galen, plucking the boy out of poverty and eventually introducing him into what was deeply held in the hearts of many Irishmen, the Cause—the liberation of Ireland from the shackles of slavery to their British overseers. It was a cause that Galen was determined to see through until its bitter end, subscribing to the belief of many "freedom fighters" that the liberation of the Irish people would never happen through nonviolence.

Lost in his musings, Jax started slightly when a gravelly voice intruded on his thoughts. "What a fuckin' asshole," Happy said quietly.

"You just read my mind, brother," Jax replied as he watched Galen throw his head back in loud laughter at something Clay had murmured.

"Don't let his shit get to you, bro," Opie said as he stood on the other side of Jax. "Him pissing on you is all he can do. Eventually, we'll be shed of him."

Jax sighed. "I hope so," he replied, leaving unsaid the fact that part of him was starting to wonder just how were they going to get rid of Galen and the fuckin' RIRA. The trio quietly watched as Galen and Clay, with Connor and several of their men falling behind, started to walk towards the SUV parked within hearing distance. Refusing to allow his stone face to change expression, Jax stood and listened to the conversation that he knew was solely for his benefit.

"I'm glad you decided to come with Connor, Galen," Clay said as he smoked a cigar despite the current drizzle of rain. "It was definitely a welcome surprise to see you."

"Well, I had to make the trip unexpectedly," Galen said as he reached into the pockets of his long wool coat to pull out a pair of leather gloves and slipped them on. "We have other operations stateside that needed to be checked up on as well. Every part of the business I handle has a direct effect on what we bring in for the Cause. The money the wetbacks have been bringing in over the last year has quadrupled our earnings. I hate dealing with those godless heathens and I should bite my tongue for saying so, but it's going to be a damn shame once that well dries up."

"Well, that's why the Club is here for you, Galen, to handle that shit so that you don't have to." Clay grinned, all 32 teeth on full display.

"Yes, and it is much appreciated as is knowing that _you're_ the one at the helm," he said as he shot a look back in the direction of the warehouse, "but how long do you think it's going last?"

"You have concerns, brother?" Clay asked soberly.

"It's just that this is a very important pipeline for us, Clay. With things going the way they have been recently, I need to assure the Kings that the NorCal pipeline will keep producing for us."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Clay said expansively. "You offer the best merch around and the wetbacks have been fighting for close to a year now. The way they breed over there, the cartels will be killing each other long after the Cause has come to its rightful conclusion."

"From yer mouth to God's ear," the Irishman said cheerfully. "However, if and when it does dry up, I'm depending on you to find us some more business, Clay. You know you're the only one I trust…and the _only_ one I will deal with. We both know how the Kings operate. They don't accept failure and, as long and as profitable as our relationship has been, they will not appreciate if the pipeline runs dry. You of all people understand what I mean."

Jax watched as his stepfather's eyes focused on Galen. "You'll never have to explain that shit to me, Galen. We've been working together on this for as long as we have been friends and I give you my word. The Irish will always have a presence in NorCal." Extending his hand, Clay's was first crushed in Galen's grip before they hugged each other hard.

Turning to the warehouse, Galen gave Jax a cold nod. "Jackson," he said tightly before nodding to the rest of the patches. Without waiting to engage further with the SAMCRO Pres, he turned and got into the passenger seat of the car.

It seemed, however, that Connor had a little more in the way of manners. Striding forward, he extended a hand to Jax. "I'll be setting up the next shipment to arrive in Vancouver along with the order for your other crews. I'll touch base with you in a couple of days."

"Looking forward to it," Jax replied as he returned the firm handshake. He watched as the man nodded respectfully before he turned to face Chibs who had just exited the warehouse.

"Ta, Filip," he said quietly.

"Ta," Chibs replied although his tone had the slightest bit of an edge.

Watching as the two cars pulled out and headed out of the property, Jax signaled his brothers as he headed towards the line of parked bikes, ignoring Clay as he cast a look over his shoulder at Chibs. Noting his tight-lipped expression, it occurred to Jax that there was something there in his brother's grim face that begged for an explanation.

* * *

"'Dat was a real pisser, Jackie Boy," Chibs said soberly as he took a deep gulp of his beloved Jameson.

"No shit," Jax replied as he leaned back on the sofa. "That Irish prick is riding my last fuckin' nerve."

"Aye, brutha, you're not alone in 'dat. Fuckin' Mick bastards," Chibs growled.

Occupying a quiet corner on the coach, the two men were enjoying a duly-earned drink to warm them up after the cold trek of their morning run.

Focusing on his brother's narrow eyes, Jax could see the anger in them. "You really have no time for Galen, do you?"

"Or his little patsy, Connor."

Waiving at the bar, Jax got the attention of Ratboy, who—sizing up the situation—poured two fresh glasses of scotch and whiskey and grabbing one of the croweaters, sent it over.

Jax took a swallow of his fresh drink. "How well did you know Galen, back in Ireland?"

"I dinna know the bastard personally, only by reputation. He had come up in the Cause as a soldier. I know he used to work a lot with McKeevy and Clay back in the early days befor' the Kings moved him into working territories in parts of Eastern Europe that were opening up to the Irish. He got a reputation, though, that preceded him. Not a fucker you want to mess with."

"I kind of got the feeling today that you and Connor have a bit of a history beyond the Cause," Jax said soberly. "And if I'm stepping out of line, let me know, brother—"

"Not at all, Jackie, but shite, you do have a nose for digging it out, don't ya?" Chibs chuckled.

"So, bad blood, I take it?"

Chibs leaned back on the couch and took another sip of his drink. "Con and I go way back to when I was a foot soldier for the RIRA. Believe it or not, the bloody sod used tae be one of my closest friends."

"So what happened?" Jax asked thoughtfully.

"Jimmy fuckin' O'Phelan happened, that's what." Chibs lips tightened at the memory. "Jimmy, who wanted everything I had. Wanted my Fi and Kerianne, and schemed his way to getting them both by getting' me fuckin' excommunicated."

Everyone in the mother charter had known of the bad history between Chibs and Jimmy, including just how Chibs had gotten the scars on his face. After twenty-plus years, however, Chibs had finally gotten his revenge on the suave Irishman when he brutally executed him, but to his recollection, this was the first that Jax was getting some substantive details. "So I'm guessing that Connor maybe had a role in that?"

"Yea, he did. Jimmy brought my loyalty to the Cause into question, inferred that the blame for some shit that had gone south could be placed on my doorstep. Con knew da truth and he coulda helped me, spoken up in my defense, but the rat bastard didn't. He didn't want to compromise his own standing in the Cause. Luckily for me, Fi is third generation IRA. Since there wasn't any out and out proof of my disloyalty, Fiona used her connections, saving me from getting me head pinched off with fuckin' razor wire," Chibs explained with more than a little anger. "You know the rest, Jackie boy. Jimmy ended up winning in the end. Had his goons beat me within an inch of my life before personally giving me me fine Glasgow smile." He grimaced, the scars on both sides of his mouth standing out prominently. "He wanted me gone from Ireland, but I wasna gonna leave Fi and Kerianne behind. But with Jimmy rising in power and pushing up on Fi, she was convinced that for her sake and Keri's, it was best that she accept his offer of protection."

"Shit," Jax said quietly. "That's fucked up, brother."

"Yea, it is," Chibs agreed with a sad sigh. "I was pretty young at the time, but it still took me a long while to heal from the beating. Ryan O'Dell, a patch with SAMBEL was also their medic. He looked after me and befriended me, and eventually I patched into the Club. I tried to keep out of the way of Fi and Kerianne, who was just a wee baby then but everyone knew that Jimmy was just using Fi to move up the ranks and it damn near killed me not being able to do anything about it. Seeing Jimmy playing house with my family, I just couldn't do it anymore, so I transferred to SAMCRO after JT died. I've managed to make a pretty damn good life for myself here, but I never forgot how Connor's betrayal aided Jimmy in stealing my life, my girls and I know the bastard hasn't either."

Jax stroked his chin in contemplation. "He sure has a lot of balls, being able to look you in the face now."

"Yea, like I said, he's a right bastard," Chibs said with conviction. "But who gives a shite about 'im, eh? With Jimmy dead now, nothing can keep me from seeing my two girls for a couple of weeks this summer." Chibs grinned, the scars on his face stretched wide. "I haven't been back to see my family since we went to Belfast for Abel."

"Speaking of which," Jax stated, "I was thinking that maybe there is something you can do for the Club while you're there."

"Anything, Jackie-boy. Just sae the word."

"Good, 'cause I want you to see if you can dig up some information," Jax said, his mind briefly reconsidering the morning's events. "And I need you to keep this digging on the down low."

* * *

_**Wednesday, March 9, 2011** _

Stretched out on his recliner, Clay quietly sipped on a glass of bourbon. It was quiet in the living room since his old lady had headed off to bed. Something about having to be at T-M bright and early and needing her beauty rest. He was glad of it simply because it allowed him some time to gather his thoughts about his latest meeting with Galen O'Shay.

Running the Club for as long as he had had given the outlaw a sixth sense when it came to knowing when shit was about to turn sideways. It wasn't an instinct that had faded during his enforced "semi-retirement". He may no longer be sitting at the head of the table, but it was going to take more than that to declaw the hungry tiger within.

Smoking his cigar, Clay sat and reflected very carefully over his conversation with the RIRA's point man. Galen had said a lot without saying very much at all during their conversation, and what he said had carried a lot of weight. It was clear from the man's posturing that he still had a beef with SAMCRO's current leader. Although Clay had made a concerted effort to gloss over Jax's concerns regarding Galen, the Irishman made no bones about expressing his blatant disapproval over the shift in the power structure of SAMCRO. Evan Clay had hoped that in time Galen's confidence in Jax as skilled a leader would grow and that his own role as intermediary was just a temporary gig. It was now becoming quite apparent, however, that the Irishman's bad attitude towards Jax was personal in nature and would likely never change, prompting Clay to consider that his semi-retirement might possibly come to an end.

Putting down his cigar and his drink, Clay flexed his hands carefully, noting the slightly dull ache in his arthritic fingers and smiled faintly. This last NorCal winter had been slightly better than the one he had spent in Stockton. Back then, the cold and lack of proper medications had caused him severe pain. Now, the combination of better drugs, physical therapy exercises and Marlowe's home remedies had slowed down his debilitating arthritis, something Clay would have never thought possible. The idea of undergoing surgery to completely rid himself of the disease was starting to sound like a damn good idea.

After all, the marked improvement of his health had him coming to the realization just how much he regretted being ousted as the head of the Sons of Anarchy. Clay had dedicated nearly forty years of his life to the Club. Having that piece of flash on his kutte proclaiming him President of the mother charter and National President of all 28 charters had been his reward for such dedication and it was proving harder to let go than he had anticipated.

With a disgruntled Galen still making noise about the current Presidency and refusing to discuss business with anyone but Clay running point, it was clear that Galen was hell bent on pushing Jax to the wayside by encouraging Clay to retake his position at the head of the table. Shit, the Irishman had gone as far as bluntly stating that Clay would have his full support.

Of course it was an incredibly risky proposition that Galen had presented. Ultimately, it could quite literally tear the Club apart, something that Galen O'Shay couldn't—or wouldn't—understand. The Sons had always been a democratic organization, even if as President Clay had taken it upon himself to make a number of executive decisions. While it could be argued that some of those decisions had been made expressly for his own benefit, the majority had been to protect his brothers and their way of life.

Switching the Club's primary focus off of guns would definitely have repercussions, as Galen had not so subtly hinted at. In order to avoid an internal tug o'war, Clay was determined to get Jax's head back in the game and had hoped for an ally in Marlowe. Unfortunately, his conversation with the medic had not had the effect he had hoped for. As a matter of fact, after analyzing the conversation over and over again in his mind, Clay was sure he had overplayed his hand with her. Unlike Gemma who had no problem doing whatever was necessary to support the Club, as a former soldier Marlowe was all about following the chain of command. More than likely that meant that her allegiance laid with Jax and his foolhardy attempts to steer the Club down a more legit path, especially since there was no doubt that her loyalty already belonged to him as her old man. Marlowe had definitely given the doctor bitch Tara Knowles a run for her money in the old lady department. She came from better stock with Happy as a relative and was made from stronger material but all the traits that made her a better old lady than Tara could also prove to be a liability. After all, even the greenest of soldiers knows that when fighting a war, collateral damage is sometimes a necessary evil.

Picking up his cigar again, Clay drew on it and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

 _There may come a time where for the good of the Club I may have to step up to stop Jax from doing anything too hasty that he will no doubt bitterly regret in the end_.

* * *

**A/N:** **So this chapter was definitely heavy on the Club aspect. It seems that both Happy and Clay have some serious concerns regarding where Jax is taking the Club and what they may be pushed to do to protect the Club's interests down the road. We also got a nice slice of history regarding Chibs. I can't wait to hear what you guys thought of the chapter and any theories you may have.**

**With a little bit of Jaxlowe in this chapter, the next one is sure to be a doozy as there is some Old Lady feistiness on the way, so please show plenty of love so this DLNR Bus can keep moving!**

**Much love, WebStar**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

**A/N: Okay, peeps. Here's a big, juicy Jaxlowe-centric chapter for y'all**

* * *

_**Monday, March 14, 2011** _

With the end to the chilly winter fast approaching, Charming was now enduring the transitional weather between the seasons with the constant spring rains starting a little earlier than the norm, to the surprise of most of the townsfolk. For Marlowe Guthrie—a lover of the heat and sunshine that she enjoyed growing up in Bakersfield—the seasoned sailor now turned EMT couldn't wait until the foul weather finally ceased so that the bright cheery colors of spring would usher in the hot and steamy summer.

Marlowe's first winter in Charming had been something she had to grow accustomed to. During her career in the armed forces, most of the places she had landed in were in the hot spots of the world—politically and literally. Getting used to the varying temperatures in NorCal—as much as 10-15 degrees in one day—had certainly been interesting, even though the past winter had been considered a mild one for Northern California.

_Still, it's a good thing I had a hot biker keep me warm at night_ , Marlowe grinned as she maneuvered her rig down the streets of Charming's business district.

With the weather finally changing, Marlowe was looking forward to stripping off layers of winter clothing for good. For now, however, her current outerwear of her fleece-lined jacket bearing the insignia of the San Joaquin Ambulance Services kept her shielded from the steady downpour of rain the county had experienced over the last few days.

Suddenly rolling her eyes, Marlowe wanted to cover her ears as her partner turned up sound on the ambulance's radio as he tried to sing—rather badly—a popular Justin Timberlake song.

_Damn, Avery may be cute, but he can't carry a tune for shit._ Marlowe winced as he cheerfully belted out another off-key verse and then grinned and shook her head as he vainly tried to get her to join in.

By the time she completed her probationary period, Marlowe and Avery had forged a reasonably good working relationship. As a result, the Human Resources Department had decided that the two of them should become permanent partners, as it seemed that Marlowe had no problem keeping Avery in check, winning the gratitude of every female EMT who collectively dreaded being assigned to work with him.

It had taken some time to get it through the perfectly groomed and proportioned head of one Avery Dennison that Marlowe wasn't interested in becoming an on-the-job fuck buddy, but after nearly seven months of working together, the two of them were now in a solid professional working relationship. The first couple of months _had_ been a little trying though. It had seemed that Avery had been downright determined to get into her navy blue uniform pants. Having explained initially to Avery about her somewhat over protective old man hadn't fazed her outspoken and over confident coworker in the least. Not really believing Marlowe, Avery had nearly learned the hard way just what kind of trouble messing with the old lady of an outlaw biker could get him, especially once he finally had an unexpected encounter with Jax _and_ Happy. Meeting one ornery biker was bad enough; two of them had been life-altering for Avery. Afterwards, he would flirt outrageously with her from time to time but he never bothered to seriously push up on her again. As he had put it quite succinctly, he had absolutely no interest in catching a bullet in his ass no matter how fine she was. He was a great medic, but even he couldn't pull a bullet out of his own carcass.

Her crow tat had also been an incentive for all others to stay the hell away too. With Happy finally finishing her new ink that proclaimed that she "belonged" to a one-percenter and his small son, it put paid to any misconceptions that her other coworkers might have had in trying to succeed where Avery had failed. Marlowe proudly displayed her ink, making no effort to hide it, leading to a frank discussion about her status as an old lady and her extremely possessive old man. As an MC, the Sons of Anarchy were well known in Sanwa and the reputation of Jackson Teller, hardcore biker, was also public knowledge, and as such, her coworkers realized that it was best to treat Marlowe respectfully.

Now, after pulling into the driveway of St. Thomas' ER, Marlowe grabbed her backpack from behind her seat and quickly exited the vehicle, slamming the door shut. Avery slipped into her now vacated seat and popped his head out the open window, pop music still blaring.

"You sure you're not coming?" Avery asked as he flashed her a wide grin. "Friday's promising to be a wild night. Hot buffet and open bar, too. Come on! You know you wanna go and let your freak flag fly," he said wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Marlowe propped an arm on the rearview mirror. "As enticing as a hot buffet at a skeevy strip club sounds, I'm gonna pass."

"Prude!" Avery teased.

"Hey, I've had more than my fair share of naked ass shaken in my face, thank you very much," Marlowe made a somewhat feeble attempt to defend herself, prompting Avery to look her up and down salaciously. "Get that douchebag grin off your face, alright?! I just don't want to cramp Miller's style at his own stag party— _and_ his funeral should he get up to some shit and his fiancée finds out. As a woman I might feel morally obligated to drop a dime on his ass."

"Shit, you ain't no woman," Avery shot back. "You're a former Marine with a shit ton stories to tell—"

"Navy, asshole! How many times I gotta tell you?" Marlowe corrected, exasperated.

"Navy, Army, Girls Scouts, I don't give a shit! I just wanna hear some stories about you and some naked _female_ ass in your face!"

Marlowe rolled her eyes. "And give you material to yank your crank to? I don't think so." She slung her backpack on her shoulders and adjusted the brim of her uniform baseball cap to keep the rain drizzle out of her eyes. "I should be done here in about 30," she continued as she took a quick glance at her watch. "Bring me back a couple of tacos and something to drink, k?"

"Will do," Avery replied cheerfully as he pumped up the volume on the radio before pulling away and heading to one of their food trucks to score some lunch.

Shaking her head at his antics, Marlowe turned and headed for the wide entrance of the ER. Despite the fact that the hospital was smaller as compared to Stockton General, it had an excellent reputation when it came to quality of care and the professionalism of its staff. Waving to a few familiar and friendly faces, Marlowe made long strides to the part of the hospital that housed its preschool.

Little Hands of St. Thomas was one of a dozen or so child care facilities for children four years of age and under in Sanwa County. After several weeks of intensive investigation of a number of facilities, Marlowe had finally decided that Little Hands was the best choice for her son.

Marlowe smiled inwardly as she thought about Abel Teller. He was such a sweet little boy. Rambunctious for sure, but with a sunny disposition. Like his father, Abel could also at times be a tad bit possessive and difficult when it came to his loved ones, but Marlowe had never felt such pride as when he would stamp his little foot and declare that she "belonged" to him.

If someone had told her while she had been doing time in the brig that one day soon she would be living a happy and fulfilling life with an outlaw biker, but would also become a brand new mother to his little boy, she would have told them they needed to get her some serious medication because she was hallucinating.

But as her Tía would say, life has a way of bringing you joy in a manner that is least expected and stumbling into domestic bliss with Jax and Abel Teller was as unexpected as it could get.

Unlike her own mother, Marlowe was determined to be the best mother that she could be to Abel. Sometimes she got shit wrong—like buying him the wrong size clothes or diapers—but other times things went pretty well in taking care of his daily needs—bathing and feeding him, reading bedtime stories and making him flan, his new favorite dessert. However, with his preschool, Marlowe was determined to get Abel set up with the best care possible. Her main concern mostly stemmed from a desire for him to develop fully and to benefit from the stimulation that interacting with children his own age would provide.

Little Hands had a great reputation. With Jax's blessing, Marlowe had thoroughly investigated several other preschools before selecting Little Hands. It had meant so much to her that her old man had not only supported her request, but had given her carte blanche to choose the facility she felt was best suited for their son. Having done her due diligence, getting and completing all of the paperwork from her employer and getting a complete list of Abel's immunizations from his pediatrician, all Marlowe needed to do was to get the hospital's Head Administrator to sign off on the paper work and her son would become the newest member of Little Hands.

_Should be a piece of cake_ , Marlowe thought as she headed up to the administrator's office.

* * *

Stepping out of the elevator on the second floor, Marlowe stopped an orderly for directions and then made her way down the hall to the administrative wing. Turning the corner, she quickly came to an office, the signage on the door identifying the administrator as one Margaret Murphy.

Raising her hand, she used her knuckles to rap on the door firmly. Being summoned to enter, Marlowe turned the knob and pushed the door open. Sitting behind a desk was a familiar looking petite redheaded woman. St. Thomas was one of many hospitals that Marlowe had frequented as a paramedic and while she couldn't know everyone, she now recalled having previously seen the women a number of times in the hospital's corridors.

The woman's voice was cordial and professional as she glanced up to meet Marlowe's eyes. "Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm hoping you can, Ms. Murphy," Marlowe replied confidently. "I was told that I needed to see you regarding the day care, Little Hands. My name is Marlowe Guthrie," she said, holding out her hand which the administrator stood and took in a polite grip. "I understand that as the hospital's administrator I need your assistance in completing my paperwork so that I can enroll my son. That is, of course, if I'm not taking you away from your work. I could come back when you're free—"

"Not at all. I'd be happy to help. Please have a seat." Margaret gestured to the seat directly in front of her desk. Marlowe watched as the woman re-seated herself. "I think I've seen you around St. Thomas before. Are you new to SAS?"

Marlowe nodded. "Yes, I am. I just finished my probationary period and one of the benefits I'm now entitled to includes discounted child care. Little Hands here at St. Thomas came highly recommended by one of my co-workers."

The administrator beamed. "We are really very proud of our pre-school facility here. SAS is very good to their employees in that they cover 25% of our tuition, so you are very fortunate to be employed by them."

"Yes I am," Marlowe replied. "And of all the facilities I've checked out, I'm sure my son Abel will be very happy here."

"What a lovely, old fashioned name," Margaret commented genially. "Well, why don't I take a look at your paperwork, Ms. Guthrie and we can get it finalized."

As Marlowe watched with a keen eye as the administrator picked through her paperwork, she saw the exact moment when the older woman's demeanor changed. The narrowing of her eyes as she seemed to focus on something that first gave rise to surprise; the tight look that indicated shock and disbelief; and the tightening of pale pink frosted lips into a sharp thin line of discontent and anger.

_Something's not right here_ , Marlowe mused as she watched as suddenly Margaret straightened the papers into a neat pile on her desk and then folded her hands over them, her overall posture stiff.

"Ms. Guthrie, I just remembered that I have an important matter that needs my immediate attention. I will hold onto your paperwork and get back to you in a day or two…maybe sometime next week."

Marlowe sat back in her chair and casually crossed her legs as she eyed the suddenly cold woman. Her response was quick and to the point. "Why?"

"Umm, well as I just said," the administrator started and stopped as Marlowe held up a hand preempting her from continuing.

"Ms. Murphy," she started, carefully swallowing her rising ire over suddenly getting the brush-off. "I'm getting a very distinctive vibe from you, so you'll have to forgive me for plain speaking, but I'm not one to beat around the bush. Just a moment ago, you seemed eager to help and had even indicated that there wouldn't be a problem with enrolling Abel today. All that changed once you started looking at the paperwork. Is there a problem, maybe something that I can clarify since I'm already here? Or are you simply stalling?"

"I don't know what you could possibly mean by 'stalling'," the woman replied evenly. "I'm sure you realize that this being a hospital-run facility that the staff of St. Thomas gets first priority for new placements. To be honest, Ms. Guthrie, I'm thinking I may have spoken out of turn by offering you a spot so quickly without checking with the day care coordinator regarding availability. As with many similar facilities, there is usually a wait-list and I should really check before signing off on your application."

Marlowe had to give it to the woman. It was a perfectly reasonable explanation. But she wasn't buying that shit, not for one minute. Not after witnessing the recent play of emotions on the administrator's face. Marlowe slowly leaned forward in her chair as she eyed the woman's suddenly wary expression.

"Ms. Murphy, we don't know each other, but I'm very good at analyzing people and situations and right now my bullshit meter is registering off the charts. I know what bureaucratic red tape entails and I have made sure to get all the necessary documents in order and I've crossed all the 't's and dotted all the 'i's. The only thing I can imagine that might raise an issue is the fact that I am registering Abel _Teller._ " Marlowe nodded her head in satisfaction as she read the confirmation in the woman as her eyes suddenly twitched. "So I guess you have a problem with Abel's _father_ , right?"

"The fact that Abel is Jackson Teller's son has very little to do with my reservation. Although considering the fact that his father runs the local motorcycle gang should probably be a concern since some of the issues that have plagued the town over the years are because of them," Margaret replied coldly as she straightened her back. "The issue is that _you_ are not Abel's mother. You might be the woman who replaced Dr. Tara Knowles as Teller's _old lady_ , but you aren't Abel's legal guardian and as such I can only authorize the paperwork from someone who is."

Marlowe felt her face redden as if she had been slapped and her hands itched with the desire to reach across the desk in order to throttle the woman. The hoity manner in which Margaret had said "Dr. Tara Knowles" made it clear that Jax's former old lady was well regarded in the woman's eyes. Refusing to be intimidated, however, she was determined not to allow this uptight paper pusher to prevent her from getting Abel the best care possible, regardless of what the woman thought about Jax, the MC or her place as Jax's new old lady.

"I'm going to ignore your blatant bias against a young child because of who his father might be and urge that you to take a moment to thoroughly examine the paperwork," Marlowe said with as pleasant a smile as she could muster. "If you had taken the time to do so before trying to show me the door, you'll see that Jackson Teller, Abel's legal guardian, has signed all the necessary forms for registration. And since you have acknowledged that my employer does indeed provide a 25% subsidy, all that I really need is your signature and I'll be on my way."

_Try to wriggle your way out of that, you coldhearted bitch_ _!_

Margaret cleared her throat as she confirmed all the necessary signatures in all the necessary places. "I see," she conceded. "But, be that as it may, I first must confirm there is space available—"

"So you've said," Marlowe interrupted. Moving towards the edge of her seat, she made sure Margaret was looking her in the eye. "Just know that I spoke to Denise Maxwell, the daycare's managing director. She was quite helpful and confirmed that there are actually enough openings for five Abel Tellers. Hearing otherwise from you would make me extremely . . . suspicious, so please, just sign the papers _now_ so I can return them to Denise and get _my son_ situated."

"Ms. Guthrie, you should know that I don't respond well to intimidation."

Marlowe chuckled as she thought of the KA-BAR strapped to her ankle. "Speaking firmly in defense of Abel is not intimidation, Ms. Murphy. But if you'd rather do it the hard way, I'm sure that with a quick call I can get someone down here with the authority to resolve this situation—"

"So you are threatening me by siccing that pit bull of an old lady on me!" The admin's cold and stoic demeanor radically changed as her voice became dangerously high pitched, fear and stress plainly evident.

With confusion plainly casting a shadow on Marlowe's features, she slowly came to the realization of what the woman was talking about.

_Damn, Gemma! What the hell did you do to this one?_ Marlowe bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from smiling as she took in the woman's now terrified expression.

"I don't know what or whom you're talking about," Marlowe lied easily, "but I'm not a school yard bully and I fight my own battles. I was merely referring to filing a complaint with your direct supervisor, who I happen to know also sits on St. Thomas' Board of Directors. As I'm sure you know, even though St. Thomas is a private facility, it does receive millions in subsidies from the County. I don't think the Board would take kindly to having that funding jeopardized by a discrimination lawsuit filed by a recently returned combat vet. I'm just saying," she said folding her arms across her chest. "So how about we hit the reset button. Look over the papers, confirm that everything's in order and sign off on the application," she paused for a beat. "Like right _now_."

It was ten humming seconds before the administrator unclenched her hands and did as she was told, finally reaching for a ball point pen and shakily signed the papers.

* * *

It was an exuberant old lady who pulled onto the T-M lot after a long hard day of work.

After dealing with St. Thomas' administrator, Marlowe had made her way to Little Hands with her newly signed paperwork, triumphant and yet still smoldering with indignation. Fortunately, it seemed that Denise didn't have a problem admitting the son of an outlaw biker. In fact, the young woman was quite affable as Marlowe presented the completed forms and was quickly able to wrap up Abel's admission so that he would start the following week.

With Avery picking her up, Marlowe had a few minutes to quickly inhale her lunch before their break was cut short for an emergency call involving a gunshot victim in Lodi. The rest of the afternoon was a blur of activity before calling it quits for the day.

It was during the drive home that Marlowe had time to fully process her unexpected run in with the hospital admin and consider its implications. With the introduction of Tara Knowles into the conversation, Marlowe had quickly connected the dots between all the players and was starting to wonder whether enrolling Abel in the hospital's preschool _was_ such a good idea after all. Marlowe vaguely recalled a conversation with Gemma in which she had implicated Margaret Murphy in playing a role in Tara's abortion that ultimately ended her relationship with Jax. That bad blood had the potential to blow up on her, but Marlowe refused to let a grudge she had nothing to do with interfere with what was best for Abel.

After parking her SUV, a brand new, tricked out kid-friendly vehicle that Jax had surprised her with a couple of months ago to replace Donna Winston's jalopy, Marlowe exited the car. Grateful that the rain had finally stopped, she eagerly made her way into the Clubhouse on the hunt for her "boys" to share the good news and discovered that the youngest was having a "Grandma and me" break.

Marlowe smiled as she observed Gemma and Abel. Perched on the edge of the coach, Gemma was handing blocks to her grandson and encouraging him as he stacked them up in his current attempt to build a garage bay.

"See, Grandma," Abel babbled. "This is where the cars go." Turning to give his grandmother some further instruction, Abel's blue eyes widened happily as they shifted to Marlowe. "Arlo!" he hollered and, knocking over his project in the process, made a beeline to the woman who had become a very large part of his life.

Bending down, Marlowe scooped the little boy up in her arms. "Hey there, buddy," she found herself crooning before smothering his face with kisses. "Did you miss me?"

"Lots and lots!" Abel replied. "I was building a garage like Daddy's, but I felled it. You gotta help me, Arlo."

"Of course, my love. Let's check it out," she replied and putting him on her hip, strode towards Gemma. "I see Grandma's been working hard."

Gemma Teller-Morrow stood up, placing her hands on the small of her back to stretch. "This was my idea. Much better than pushing my baby on the swing in the rain no matter how much he wanted to. Still worn out, though."

"Getting old, are we?" Marlowe snarked.

"Bite your tongue before I rip it out and strangle you with it," the old lady warned good-naturedly.

Marlowe laughed as Abel's eyes widened and his tiny mouth formed into a perfect circle. "No, Grandma! You can't do that to my Arlo," he insisted with all the seriousness a three year old could muster.

"Don't worry, Abel," Marlowe soothed him. "Grandma's bark is worse than her bite."

"Yeah, right," Gemma laughed. "You keep believing that, baby girl."

"Oh, I know better, but no sense in giving my baby nightmares," Marlowe explained. Looking around the quiet and otherwise empty clubhouse, she asked, "Where is everyone?"

"By 'everyone' I'm guessing you mean your old man. He's with Opie and Happy." Gemma cocked her head towards the chapel. "You need him for something?" she asked with a knowing grin.

"I always _need_ my old man for something," Marlowe grinned as she nuzzled Abel's hair, "but in spite of your dirty mind, right now I just wanted to share some good news."

"Hot damn!" Gemma shouted causing her grandson to start. "You're pregnant!"

"What?!" Marlowe yelped, looking absolutely floored. "What the fu—hell, Gem? NO!" She watched as the old lady's shoulders slumped in apparent disappointment and she practically pouted.

"No need to jump down my throat, baby girl. You can't blame me for hoping," she replied. "So what's the good news then?"

Having realized that in her excitement that she had just put her foot in it, Marlowe bit the inside of her bottom lip. Having approached her old man on the subject, she had had a pretty good vibe from him that his mother might not be too thrilled about her grandbaby going to preschool. Jax, however, was fully supportive of the idea. It had been her plan however, to carefully set the stage before dropping the bomb on the woman who was probably the closest she would ever come to having mother-in-law and now Marlowe realized that she had lost that advantage by shooting off her big fat mouth.

_Well, no help for it now_ , Marlowe thought as she noted Gemma's narrowing eyes. "The good news is that little man here is going to get himself some new friends," she said taking her eyes off of Gemma to focus on her son. "Whatcha think? Would you like to play with some other little boys and girls?"

Keeping her focus firmly fixed on Abel, Marlowe watched as her son's eyes widened with interest. "I gonna go school?" he said hopefully.

"That's right. You get to play with other little boys and girls, and with toys and computers, too."

"When I goin'?" he asked excitedly.

"Soon, baby," Marlowe promised. "And you're going to have a really good time," she continued completely ignoring the "What the fuck?" that Gemma muttered angrily.

Instead, Marlowe turned to the Clubhouse door to focus on the newcomer that happily skipped inside. "Hey, Chuck," she called out.

"Hey, Doc," Chucky replied cheerfully and then came to a sudden stop as he took in the smiling faces of the woman and child before eyeing the tight-lipped expression and heaving bosom of his boss.

"Uh, I was just going to grab something to eat," he said tentatively.

"That's a good idea. While you're doing that why don't you take Abel and get him something to drink too?" Marlowe said as she lowered Abel to the floor. "I think Gemma and I need to have a little talk."

"Uh, sure, Doc. No problem," he replied slowly as he eyed both women. "C'mon, sport. Let me hook you up with a juice box."

Marlowe watched as Abel followed behind the strange man and waited until the two were settled in the kitchen before turning back to the seething old lady.

_Here's hoping that the chapel doors are thicker than the dorm walls_ , she thought grimly as she eyed the battle glint in Gemma's eyes. "Okay, so I'm getting the vibe that some animal just crawled up your ass to die."

"Yeah, you when you decided to farm out your responsibilities to my grandson by signing him up for daycare," Gemma retorted as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Immediately, Marlowe felt her hackles rise. "That's bullshit and you know it, Gem. First, you of all people should know how much I love that little boy, so you even suggesting that I'm farming out his care is offensive. Second, it's more a preschool than it is a daycare. It'll prepare Abel to be around adults outside his circle as well as children his age so that his transition to a regular school setting won't be so off-putting. And third," she barely paused to take a breath as Gemma seemed keen on interrupting. "Elyda has been a part of Abel's life ever since Jax went inside and long after Tara left. She's a wonderful caregiver, but aside from some broken Spanish, what is he learning that will benefit him when he does go to school?"

"At this point in his life, the only thing that's important is that my grandson is being watched in the safety of his father's home. Elyda has been thoroughly vetted and _I_ trust her. Having _outsiders_ who we know nothing about caring for Abel is out of the scope of reasoning and totally unacceptable," the matriarch argued.

"Are you serious?! We can't keep Abel in a plastic bubble. At some point, he is going to have to interact with the outside world and it is our responsibility to prepare him for that," Marlowe countered. "I may not know the staff personally, but I do know they're properly licensed. Little Hands is not a fuckin' coven!"

Gemma practically choked on her indignation. "Your plan is to send my grandson to the daycare at St. Thomas?!" She fumed.

"Yes. He goes to his doctors at St. Thomas too. I don't see an issue," Marlowe responded.

"Maybe the issue is that if you in fact love my son as much as you say you do, that you'd consider staying home to raise Abel full time!" Gemma countered.

_Oh no, she didn't!_

Although she had a tenuous hold on her growing anger, Marlowe managed to retain her composure out of the respect she had for Gemma and her love of family. "Gemma, because I know of the bad blood between you and Jax's former old ladies, I'm going to ignore the venom in your last statement and not shove my boot up your well-toned ass. But please, do not question my love for Jax and Abel just because I choose to work. In spite of what you may think, love and loyalty do not equate with me having to live my life entirely for the Club, but it does mean that I will do what I think is best for my family," she retorted.

"So now what I think is best for _my_ family is irrelevant?" Gemma replied bitterly.

"In this case, maybe it _is_ ," Marlowe said soberly and watched as deep brown eyes widened in shock. "Gemma, you did your fair amount to push me and Jax together. I have to believe you saw something in us that made us right for each other and if that's the case, you have to trust that as a couple, Jax and I know and want what is best for Abel. Sometimes—like now—you and I will butt heads and disagree. That doesn't change the love and respect I have for you, but as Jax's old lady, I get final say. So pull up your old lady thong and deal with it," Marlowe finished, grateful that the older woman seemed shocked into stunned silence. With a sigh, Marlowe ran her hands through her hair. "I better go see what Chucky and Abel are up to."

* * *

The atmosphere in the chapel was one of contemplation as the three SAMCRO officers decided to take the opportunity of a somewhat empty clubhouse to discuss their current situation in the wake of their recent exchange with the Galindo cartel.

"Have you given any more thought as to how we're gonna get the Club out of this shit with the Irish?" Happy asked as he stubbed out his cigarette. He watched as Jax leaned back in his chair.

"I've got a couple of ideas brewing. I think I'll know more, however, after Chibs trip to Belfast. I'm hoping that he'll bring back some Intel that will help us craft a workable scenario," Jax replied.

"We can only hope," Opie said quietly as he eyed his best friend. "I'm getting the feeling that finding a solution to this problem is going to be a hell of a lot harder than we initially thought."

"It's not only that," Jax replied as he tapped the ash off his cigarette into an ashtray. "I think the sitch may come to a head a little sooner than we anticipated."

"Whacha talking 'bout, Pres?" Happy asked his expression grim.

"I think I got a little heads up from Luis, and if I'm right, shit between the two cartels may be wrapping up sooner than we hoped."

"Luis actually told you that shit?" his SAA said skeptically.

"Not in so many words," Jax replied, "but he was a little more talkative than usual at our last meet and he said a couple of things that made me look into some shit." Sliding his hand into his kutte, Happy and Opie watched as Jax pulled out a folded piece of paper.

Unfolding it, Jax placed it on the table for his officers to see. "I did a little homework after the run, asked Juice to get this for me, quietly. This is a map of Mexico. Now, according to Luis, the Galindo Cartel occupied the Northern part of the country, with Lobos Sonora in the south before disputes over territory ignited an all-out war," he explained. "Now, almost a year later, Galindo has taken over a number of Lobos territories, obliterating the enemy. According to Luis, Galindo has taken over their coke factories and private air strips, and in some cases, even the local government. I've marked them on the map."

"Shit," Opie murmured as he used a large index finger to trace the line of dots that Jax had outlined on the map with a marker that went deep into the rival cartel's territory. "It looks like they have seriously fucked up the Lobos' infrastructure."

"That they have. So if what Luis says is true—" Jax started.

"—then the Lobos have lost more than half of their territory to Galindo," Happy finished. His dark eyes focused on his president. "And that means—"

"That means Galindo is not looking for a compromise. Sooner or later, Lobos Sonora will be wiped off the map altogether and Galindo will be the biggest cartel operating out of Mexico," Jax explained.

Opie nodded as he grabbed on to Jax's train of thought. "And that means the cartel war will come to an end. Galindo won't be needing the Irish's heavy and expensive artillery anymore."

"Exactly," Jax sat back and eyed his brothers grimly. "With the police and federales in their hip pocket, they'll have all the military-grade weaponry they could ever need at their disposal. Shit, they'll have their own personal cartel militia all paid for by the Mexican government."

"So how long before the Irish see their Mexican pipeline evaporate?" Happy asked.

"Five, maybe six months," Jax replied.

"Shit, Jax. That doesn't really give us much time to get our shit together," Opie stated with some concern.

"That's why we have to step it up a notch, brother," Jax replied. "I think it's time we reached out to our new best friend, especially after this showed up in the mail today." He withdrew an envelope from his kutte and handed it to Happy. "I had Chucky keeping an eye out for it in the mail."

"What's this?" Happy asked as he pulled out the contents of the envelope. His eyes widened in stunned surprise. "Shit a brick!"

"What is it?" Opie asked excitedly and reached over to take the envelope from his brother and quickly perused the document. His whistle was long and low before looking at his best friend. "This shit's legit?"

Jax nodded. "I had Ally Lowen look into it and every single zero on that check is straight up legit," he said referring to the six-figure settlement check Opie was holding from the insurance company for the fire that destroyed Cara Cara two years ago. "Not that I needed further proof, but this does confirm that Nico Torelli is definitely the real deal."

"Wow, and I really thought she was blowing smoke up our asses," Opie chuckled. "I stand corrected."

"So am I right in thinking that it's time we pulled Ms. Torelli in and see what she can do for us?" Jax asked. "With the cartel deal in the homestretch, we can't afford to keep our asses on the fence. Either we go hard, or we go home."

Opie nodded slowly. "I say we go for it. She's already proven herself more capable than Rosen has these past two years in dealing with the insurance company. I say we give Lady Mob Lawyer a shot."

Jax stubbed out his cigarette. "What do you think, Hap?"

Happy shrugged. "You know me, Pres. Anyone that can help the Club pull this kind of money in is golden in my book."

"It's settled then," Jax confirmed. "I'll reach out to her as soon as possible. I want Opie there with me, but I want you there too, Hap. You've made a good impression on Nico and good old Uncle Jimmy so far by how you handled their internal problem. I think having you by my side when I reach out to her is a good play."

Happy nodded. "If you say so, brother." After all, any opportunity to see Tiny wouldn't be wasted on him.

"Good. I'll let you know when," Jax said, about to call their meeting to an end when one more matter popped into his head. "Before I forget, City Council was meeting this morning to vote on pushing Charming Heights through. If it's a go that means Nico can start working on our next expansion efforts ASAP."

"And we need that shit to happen ASAP," Opie stated.

"And it will. When it does, things are going to start moving pretty fast. Oswald has already cleared a good deal of the acreage and Hale is gonna want to get shit up and running soon. His development company is all set to start sending out requests for contract proposals for landscaping, plumbing, electrical, concrete and other building materials."

"What's that have to do with us?" Happy asked.

"Nothing, but I see a possible advantage," Jax replied. "Didn't you tell me that during your cover for the hit that you heard some of the family talking about their construction supply business?"

"Uh, yeah. I think they're into cement and some other shit."

"That's what I thought. I'm going to get Juice on that. I think that there could be all kinds of mutual love going on between us and the Torelli family." Looking at his prepay, Jax stood up. "I think this is good for now. I'll put Juice on digging up some more shit on the Torellis before I call to set up a meet with Nico."

"Sounds like a plan," Happy replied standing up as well.

It seemed that Jax was fully invested in Tiny being the key to helping the Club go legit and Happy was confident that she would succeed. How her involvement in SAMCRO business would affect her status as his side piece was anyone's guess, but Happy knew one thing for damn sure.

He was looking forward to finding out.

* * *

Opening the doors to the chapel, Jax stepped into the main room to find his mother pacing anxiously back and forth.

Gemma turned to face her son, relief flooding her face. "Baby, can I speak to you for a sec?"

Eyeing her for a moment, Jax approached his mother. "Sure. Everything okay, Ma?"

"No. No, everything is not okay. What's all this bullshit about daycare for Abel?" Gemma crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed Jax. "We Tellers look after our own." She watched as her son's face hardened into a tight mask.

"Yeah we do, and Marlowe is doing what Tellers do best, which is looking after her family. She's looking out for our son's best interest, which is why she wants him in preschool. I trust her judgment on this, Ma."

"Do I have to remind you what happened the last time you put your trust in a woman?" Gemma asked sardonically. "That doctor bitch killed my unborn grandchild," she said in a fierce whisper. "I think that gives me the right to question your _judgment_ , Jackson."

"Whoa! Back it up, Gemma," Jax warned his mother. "Even you should know better than to go around comparing Marlowe to Tara. They're not even in the same fuckin' league."

Opening her mouth to argue, Gemma was startled when her son put his hand firmly over it. "Don't make me pull rank, Gemma," Jax said evenly, looking into her wide-with-surprise eyes. " _I_ run this Club and _I run my family_. I love you, Ma, but it's time for you to take a step back and cut out this sense of entitlement you feel you have the right to as Club matriarch. In the grand scheme of things, you're just an old lady and you need to start respecting Marlowe's decisions as _my_ old lady, you hearing me?" he said with quiet seriousness.

Pushing his hand from her mouth, Gemma sighed and rolled her eyes to avoid his gaze. Jax simply grabbed her by the chin and gave it a firm tug with a cold, hard stare which finally melted into a teasing grin. "You hear me?" he repeated.

"All right already, you little shithead. I hear you and I'll obey," she whispered sarcastically.

"Can I get that in writing?" Jax joked, but not really.

"Asshole," she said reaching over and giving his ear a good tweak.

"What the fuck, Ma!" he yelped.

"Hey, _in the grand scheme of things_ , it wasn't all that long ago that I was wiping your shitty ass. You may outrank me as Club President, but I am still your mother, so don't you forget it," Gemma warned, before running a loving hand across his bearded chin. "I've earned the right to meddle as a mother."

"A serious control freak of a mother," Jax grinned and suddenly winced as she gave the hair on his chin a violent tug.

"I am not my mother. How many times I have to tell you that shit?"

"As many times as it takes to convince yourself," Jax teased. "I know the truth and still love your cranky ass anyways." He flashed her a big shit-eating grin.

It would seem that her son _was_ maturing in more ways than she could possibly handle. Jackson Nathaniel Teller had made it crystal clear what the new pecking order was. It was the first time that Gemma realized that she truly was no longer first on her son's list of priorities although she knew that she would always have his love. It was something she knew that had to happen eventually—the separation between mother and son—and she had to an extent stepped aside for Tara to take the role as the new HBIC, one that the younger woman had been unwilling and unable to perform. But it seemed that with Marlowe Guthrie at his side, Jax was determined to fully support his old lady and to keep her counsel first in mind.

Gemma was never the type of person who ever made a habit of apologizing for shit she did wrong. It simply was not in her nature. As she watched her son lovingly interact with Marlowe and Abel as they returned from the kitchen, however, she realized that in this one instance, _maybe_ a mea culpa was warranted.

* * *

**A/N** **: First off, many thanks for the warm welcome. The reviews were really appreciated and HUGE thanks to my beta, Miss Harlee Quinn. This role reversal is really interesting to say the least, but I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Hopefully, I can carry the ball until such time as Harlee-girl gets her mojo back, which I hope will be really, really soon.**

**As you can see, just because Marlowe's in the family doesn't mean everything is all unicorns and rainbows. She is trying to find her way as a new old lady and mother and has to deal with outsiders like her coworkers and people like Margaret Murphy. She also has to set boundary lines for Gemma Teller-Morrow who is clearly not used to that at all. All-in-all, I think she's got the sitch under control. It also helps that she has a supportive old man who has no problem putting his mother in check.**

**Meanwhile Jax has already seen the writing on the wall and is moving his chess pieces in order to put the Club in the best possible place when the Cartel business finally dries up.**

**Next chapter** **: With things starting to move in the right direction, the SAMCRO Pres and his officers end up in the bustling town of Reno to see a certain short, blue-eyed Italian lawyer, and Jax and Opie get a bird's eye view of the sparks between Happy and Tiny.**

**Reviews mean love, so the more you post the more chapters I will try and churn out!**

**Hugs, WebStar**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada—Friday, March 18, 2011** _

_La Cucina_ was the best Italian restaurant to be found in Northern Nevada. Located in downtown Reno, it occupied a prime piece of real estate that was surrounded by a number of trendy shops and family-owned businesses that catered both to tourists and the locals, and many of the latter were prominent businessmen who loved to wine and dine their clients in _La Cucina's_ stylish atmosphere.

With two floors, the restaurant was filled to capacity every day for lunch and dinner. In addition, with several attractive private meeting and banquet rooms it was a popular venue for all types of functions, including conferences, wedding receptions, and other family gatherings.

 _La Cucina's_ décor mixed old world Italian charm with rich wall paneling, plush leather banquettes, and ornate tables and chairs. Beautifully accented with vases of exotic flowers, antique mirrors, lamps and ceiling fixtures, the restaurant's various seating areas were separated by large archways with contrasting wallpaper and paint in shades from the palest cream to the deepest terracotta, with one of the most favored sections decorated with exposed red-orange bricks reminiscent of some older New York restaurants in Little Italy. Featured as the only Italian restaurant with a 5-star rating by Reno Zagat, the aroma that emanated from its lavish kitchen—from brick oven pizza to its traditional Italian pastas and hearty dishes like Ossobuco Milanese—had earned its rating and has allowed the restaurant to operate for nearly thirty years.

It was the jewel of the Torelli's five restaurants and Gianni "Brooklyn Johnny T" Torelli's favorite. When Gianni relocated his young family out West seeking to start his own Family, he was determined to be successful. After firmly establishing the Syndicate, it had been a primary goal to open a restaurant so that he could have the best Italian food that rivaled what he had left behind in his beloved Brooklyn right at his fingertips. His dream grew and the Syndicate eventually had five restaurants of its own, but _La Cucina_ was the first and the best.

Now, stretching her arms above her head, Nico sighed. _If only Papa were here right now_ , she thought nostalgically. It had been a long time custom for the two of them to go over the restaurant's books with its manager, Gino Verdi, a second cousin of her mother's and their accountant. Afterwards, Santino—the restaurant's chef that Gianni had gleefully stolen from his favorite restaurant in Brooklyn many years ago with a huge monetary bonus and a small percentage of the profits—would make Gianni's favorite meal. The two of them would spend a quiet afternoon together laughing and talking, eating good food and drinking wine and espresso in their own private world.

Now it was just herself, Gino and Tom Willis, the Torelli's corporate accountant, spread out in Gino's office finishing up the review of the restaurant's current financials. With her father's ebullient nature missing, it was not at all the same. Yet, Nico knew that in her capacity as her father's executor she needed to keep the session upbeat and, therefore, did her best to end the meeting on a high, positive note.

"I have to say that I am surprised, Gino. We usually do very well every quarter on the catering side, but this first quarter is on track for being the best one in nearly five years," she said with a smile.

The rotund little man with thick hair the color of black shoe polish and a thin mustache grinned. "I am very glad, cousin. Normally we have few events scheduled as you know it is usually quiet this time of the year, but six new events came in because that shithole of a catering hall—the one over on Fifth Street—folded leaving their customers high and dry. Through _La Cucina's_ florist I was introduced to the poor, defrauded customers and I scooped them right up. Of course we gave them first class service and a reasonable discount for coming to us and now we have four more events that have come from it for later this year," he said happily.

"That was great networking, Gino. The extra events have definitely increased this quarter's profits," Tom, a slender blond-haired man agreed from across the table. "Nico, are you still considering the expansion of the restaurant?" he asked.

"Yes, negotiations to purchase the building behind the restaurant have been finalized and I will close on the property next week. My father believes that with the proper architect, the new property could be completely revamped. By breaking in through the back of _La Cucina_ and then restructuring the new building, we can create a large alfresco dining area between both buildings. The new building can house all of private dining rooms for weddings and conference rooms, and free up space in this building to expand and revamp the kitchen which needs an upgrade, as well as provide additional dining areas."

"Gianni always wanted to have an outdoor dining area," Gino said wistfully, "but there was never enough space. What a wonderful surprise it will be if you can get it done before he—" he trailed off quietly, his gaze slightly apprehensive.

"I am solely closing on the property, but the revamp is not my baby," Nico said confidently, "Papa wouldn't want anyone but himself to oversee and design the project, and it will be a great way to keep him busy _when_ he comes home." Standing up, she shook both men's hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to prepare for another meeting."

"And I need to make sure that everything is moving smoothly up front," Gino excused himself. "The lunch crowd will soon be trickling in."

Heading for the bathroom that was attached to the office, Nico took the time to freshen up and to clear her mind in preparation for her next meeting.

It had been two months since her last visit to Charming and Nico had begun to wonder whether or not Jax Teller was ever going to take her up on the offer she made. Fortunately, things had seemed to be looking up when her contact at Reliance Insurance Company had finally confirmed that the claim resubmitted by the Sons' present counsel had been approved and that a six-figure check was already in the mail for the Club.

It was only a few days later that Jax had reached out to set up a meet. Since she was currently swamped with a number of situations at home base, Nico had requested that he come to Reno to see her and the SAMCRO Pres had agreed. Although legitimately busy with Syndicate matters, Nico was glad her work schedule excuse had worked as this time she wanted to be on _her_ turf when she met with the wily biker again.

Washing her hands in the marble sink, Nico eyed her reflection in the mirror and begrudgingly noted a slightly hopeful gaze.

"Don't go getting wet just yet," she chastised her reflection. "Happy might not even be making the run here for this meeting."

As she understood that a Sergeant-at-Arms' role was often that of a bodyguard for the top ranking officer of an MC, however, Nico knew better than to not expect to see Happy today. But she was keeping hope alive.

The fact of the matter was that Nico had been having a hard time not thinking about the grumpy biker at least once a day—especially in the mornings when she woke up in her bed all alone. But if things went according to plan, Nico had a feeling she wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.

Exiting the bathroom, she shrugged on the navy blue suit jacket over the gold silk blouse she wore. With her hair swept up in a chignon and wearing gold earrings with a matching choker necklace, Nico was the epitome of a professional business woman. Grabbing her briefcase, she exited the office and headed towards the spiral staircase that would take her to the private party room she had allocated for the meeting. Hopefully, she would be able to grab a cup of coffee before the Sons arrived, but as the restaurant's hostess approached her, she realized that wasn't going to happen.

"Ms. Torelli? I have three . . . uh, gentleman asking for you waiting upfront."

Nico grinned. Except for a moment of slight hesitation, the woman hadn't broken a sweat over the fact that three heavily tattooed and dangerous looking men had walked into the upscale restaurant looking for her. As a matter of fact, Nico could see the gleam of avid curiosity in her bright green eyes.

"Thank you, Geneva," Nico replied as she changed direction. Walking through the restaurant that was almost to capacity with the early lunch crowd, Nico spotted her guests hovering by the entrance. She took a moment to watch them unobserved behind a latticed wall that separated the corridor from a seating area and grinned as she noted several patrons doing the same.

With his two officers standing on either side of him, Jax certainly made a lasting impression on the fairer sex, although his brothers seemed to be garnering their own fair share of admiring glances. Who would have guessed that the ladies-who-lunch crowd of Reno would have a taste for sexy bikers in leather.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," a feminine voice carried through the latticed wall to reach Nico's ears. Peering through she identified the voice as belonging to a redhead who had her chin cupped between her index finger and thumb as she gazed in appreciation at the group of men standing by the reception area. "Oh my, who let the deliciously hot riff-raff in?" she said as she smacked her vivid red lips.

"Which one?" said one of her companions, a woman with a short blonde bob and wonder in her voice.

"All of them," the third woman in the group replied breathily, her brown curly hair flowing over her shoulders. "What do you think they're doing here?"

"Uh, to eat, I would imagine," the redhead said a little snidely. "Forget the Veal Francese. I want to eat blondie instead," she said, biting her lip.

"I wouldn't mind being sandwiched between him and the bearded giant," the blonde added with a salacious grin.

"Have you no shame, you horny bitches? You're both married," brown and curly exclaimed.

"And?" her two companions chorused and Nico was hard pressed not to laugh out loud. "Besides, if a married man can have some no-frills action on the side, what's going to stop me?" the redhead said with a sigh as she eagerly eyed the men.

"The fidelity clause in your pre-nup," the blonde offered with a chuckle as the redhead rolled her eyes.

"Well, _I'm_ not married," brown and curly exclaimed as she straightened her shoulders, forcing her surgically-enhanced cleavage to the forefront as she fluffed her hair. "And while the blond one is certainly a hottie, it's the bald one that can get my motor running. Did you see the tattoo on his head? Snakes mean, like, virility and shit. I bet he's a feisty one. Once he unleashes himself on a woman I'm sure there's no going back," she gushed.

"Ain't that the truth," Nico said under her breath. "My poor Magic Wand just won't cut it anymore."

"Ma'am?" the hostess said softly, the smile in her voice clearly evident.

Nico gave a start having completely forgotten the hostess was trailing behind her and had obviously stopped to watch her spying on the paying guests. As Nico refocused a pair of narrowed eyes on Geneva, she grinned inwardly as the woman quickly blanked the expression in her voice and face.

Walking past the wall, Nico took a quick glance at the women behind her who were still avidly stripping the men bare.

_Too bad ladies. Hot bikers are_ _not_ _on today's menu._

Finally approaching her guests, Nico held out a hand to SAMCRO's President. "Hello, Jax. I'm so glad you could make the trip."

"No problem at all," he replied with a wide grin as he gripped her hand in his and glanced around. "This is a real nice place you have here."

"Thank you," she replied with pride. Nodding respectfully at Opie who gave her a nod in return, Nico turned to face the third biker. "I wasn't expecting to see you today, Happy," she lied.

"I always travel with my Pres," he replied, the gravelly essence of his voice sending shivers down her spine. "That's kinda my job."

"And everyone knows that Happy Lowman takes his job seriously, don't they?" she quipped.

"And if they don't, they better ask somebody."

"Well," Nico said turning to face them all. "I know you're here to discuss business, but once we're done I hope you'll join me for an early dinner," she offered, her eyes sparkling as they were drawn back to Happy. "If you're hungry, that is."

"I'm always down to eat whatever a woman's offering," Happy smirked as the double meaning of his words caused a slight color to stain Nico's cheeks.

Feeling as though he could cut through the sexual tension with his KA-BAR, Jax quirked an eyebrow at Opie, who gave his massive shoulders a slight shrug as if to say "who the fuck knows?"

"Well, then, let's get started. Please follow me," Nico said airily as she turned and headed towards the back of the restaurant.

* * *

The private room that Nico had chosen was small and elegant. Located on the second floor and usually set up to accommodate up to 25 guests, the room now contained a large round table and a lovely side board set up with coffee and pastries, with a server standing at the ready.

"Please have a seat," Nico invited. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"That would be great, thanks," Jax replied. "I'll have what you're having."

After taking all the orders, the server quickly provided the required drinks before getting the nod from Nico to excuse himself and closed the door firmly behind him.

Nico sat back in her chair, crossed her legs and eyed the man sitting across from her serenely. Having decided to let Jax take point since it was he who requested the meeting, she waited patiently while he prepared his coffee.

"So I see you like a little coffee with your sugar?" she teased.

"Yeah, pretty much," he smirked as he finally spooned the sixth teaspoon of sugar into his cup and stirred it vigorously. Taking a sip, he grinned. "Good coffee."

"How can you possibly tell?" Happy grumbled. "She's right. With all that shit you dumped in it that don't even look like coffee anymore."

Nico watched as Jax raised an eyebrow at his brother before ignoring him. He sat forward folding his hands on top of the table. "So," he said quietly. "I spoke with Ally Lowen the other day."

"Did you? And how is she?" Nico said lazily.

"She's fine, although she's completely flabbergasted as to how you managed to pull this shit off," Jax said as he reached into his kutte and pulled out a check and tossed it on the table. "$350,000 is a seriously whopping payday on a burnt out warehouse. You have my thanks."

Nico grinned. "I'm glad that I was able to help the Club out."

"I have to say you've really impressed me, pulling that shit off," Opie said.

"Thanks, I appreciate that."

"So how would you like to have another opportunity to do that shit again?" Jax asked.

 _Gotcha_ , Nico thought, wanting to jump up and do a happy dance.

"And how can I do that?" she replied placidly.

"Oh, come on now, _girl_. Don't play coy with us. You have a pretty good idea why we're here," Happy said briskly.

"Maybe I do, _boy,_ butmaybe I don't. I don't get paid the big bucks by making assumptions." Nico shrugged her shoulders. "I'd rather hear from your Pres what he wants."

"Hap, I got this," Jax replied as he noted his brother's aggressive stance. "Nico, I have to give it to you. You were smart—gave us a little taste of the shit you can do, and I agree with Ope. I _am_ impressed. Getting this shit," he tapped the check with his index finger, "was totally unexpected. As you said, you found a way to manipulate shit to the Club's advantage. That's enough for me to sit up and take notice."

"But is it enough for you to take me up on my offer?" Nico countered. She watched as the patch contemplated his words before speaking.

"I think it is."

Nico felt the tension leave her shoulders and she relaxed in her chair. "I'm glad to hear that, Jax. I don't believe that you're an easy man to impress."

"I'm not, but even I can see the benefits of a possible association between us, but there is some shit we need to be clear on first."

"All right. Shoot."

"The Club is in a very sensitive position right now. We've been outlaw for over 25 years. You know how we earn."

"Gun running is an extremely profitable business," Nico acknowledged. "It's also very dangerous and has many risks, the least of which is jail time."

"Exactly. Your guess that I want to get the Club out of guns was right. The Club has lost far more than it has gained ever since we started this shit back when my old man was running it. But you can't expect to take an organization like the Sons and just stop it on a dime and reverse its course."

"Strongly entrenched ideas and beliefs are hard to change," she agreed, "especially if the old guard is still around to interfere with your plans, possibly fighting you every step of the way."

Acknowledging her oblique reference to his stepfather, Jax grinned. "You're not kidding. The fact is that making this move is not something that everyone in my charter or the Club as a whole will necessarily be happy with. That's why we were a little—"

"Upset?" Nico suggested.

"Let's say perturbed that someone from the outside twigged onto the fact before we were ready to broach the idea with the rest of the charter," Opie injected.

"There's also the concern as to how crews outside of the MC will react to us not being in the gun trade anymore, your uncle's crew among them."

"Yes, I can see how that would be a concern," Nico said slowly. "The Sons have been providing my uncle—and by extension the rest of the family—with guns for nearly two decades. Have you an idea as to how your exiting the business will play out?"

"We don't plan to leave our best customers in the lurch. Jax has some ideas that we're kicking around," Happy spoke up, "but it ain't anything at all for you to be worried about right now."

"You may be right," she replied slowly, "and it is certainly your business, not mine. So what is your timeframe for making the transition?"

It was Jax who picked the ball back up. "I'm going to make a guess here and figure that with your contacts you might have some idea of our current business obligations—"

"The Galindo Cartel, headed by Jose Galindo who is in a territory dispute with a rival cartel, Lobos Sonora and for whom has become quite an adversary with the military grade weapons you've been able to acquire for him," Nico said quietly. "With its current push into Lobos territory, it's only a matter of months before Galindo will have wiped Lobos Sonora off the map thereby becoming the top drug Kingpin of Mexico, at which time the need for the merchandise that the IRA provides will be at an all-time low."

"Shit," Opie muttered in amazement.

"Alrighty then," Jax said with a wry grin. "I don't know where you get your Intel from—as it was I had to figure that shit about things wrapping up on my own—but you're right. I figure we have maybe five months, six on the outside before we get the word that our services are no longer required. I would like to get all of our businesses up and running by the fall so that when the bottom drops out—"

"SAMCRO keeps on running with a steady flow of legitimate income," Nico replied. She stood up and grabbed the carafe of coffee from the sideboard, and returned to the table to refill everyone's cups.

Setting down the carafe, Nico eyed her guests. "Gentlemen, I think we have a lot to discuss."

* * *

Happy watched as Tiny consulted her legal notepad and a stack of papers she had in front of her. It was something to see her all professional and serious when it came to her business. He found it difficult to believe that the woman that had rode his dick better than anybody ever had in his recent memory could be so cool and collected now, especially when he knew about her fiery nature.

It was sexy as hell and he was glad that the large round table was doing double duty in covering up the fact that he was working on a hard on.

They had spent the last two hours closeted together while they strategized and discussed the plans that his Pres had for the charter and Happy had to admit that the little woman certainly could hold her own with a bunch of outlaw bikers, delivering her thoughts and ideas on Jax's plans in a way that was respectful and not dumbing shit down to them like they were a bunch of Neanderthals.

After spending a good deal of time talking about the possibility of bringing on board a forensic accountant to create and restructure Unser Trucking's paper trail to prevent the Club being brought in by Uncle Sam for tax fraud, they had now moved onto the more exciting aspect of the Club's next legitimate business.

"So I know a bit about the situation, but why don't you tell me about Cara Cara Productions," Nico said as she scribbled some notes on her pad. "How did it get its start?"

"It was a small, but profitable studio," Jax began. "Initially it was owned by Luann and Otto Delaney, who is a member, with the Club receiving a vig. A couple of years ago as a retaliatory measure, the studio was subject to an asset seizure by the Feds, stripped it down to the bone leaving it unable to conduct business. The Club came on as a full partner providing the empty warehouse we had for a new studio and muscle to protect the actresses from harassment from other studios. Then Luann was brutally beaten to death. Her half of the business passed to her old man."

Nico nodded slowly noting the look of remorse and guilt mirrored in Jax's eyes. _Definitely a story there_ , she thought. "I understand he is currently on death row in Stockton Prison," Nico prodded.

"Yeah. With the studio burning down a few weeks before we went inside, by the time we got out, the company was pretty much defunct. We still have a pretty large catalog of flicks that are still being distributed, but right now the profit on that is small potatoes. Too much new shit by other studios within the same region makes it difficult to bring in new money.

"While we were gone some of our talent have gone to other studios, but we still have access to most of them, as well as several directors that we can get back on our roster. We were really making some big money with live video streaming, and my Intel officer believed prior to the studio burning down, that we could probably increase our profits by as much as 20-30% with the right equipment," Jax concluded.

"So the biggest problem to making all of that happen is that you don't have a studio," Nico concluded.

"Exactly. A few months ago we managed to acquire some equipment—HD cameras, props, costumes—which are currently being held in storage for us."

"Yes, Charlie Barosky told me," she replied. "I stopped by a couple of weeks ago for a little pastry at his Deli and we got to talking. He can be a real asset to the Club. You'll have to negotiate a vig for operating on his docks, of course, but if I speak to him, I can use my influence so that it won't put a big dent in your wallet." Nico took a sip of her coffee. "Now tell me how far your old counsel got on the studio."

Jax nodded. "I asked our attorneys to quietly look into restarting the business and they ran into a few snags. First, getting the studio we wanted. We have the exact space in mind—the same warehouse at Stockton Navy Yard that another studio had before they went out of business," Opie grimaced. "But the owner—his name is Ralph Quigley—has rebuffed all of our offers to buy his piece of crap building. He wants to lease it on a month-by-month basis and that comes with a boatload of problems, the very least being kicked out with little to no warning. We want to own the building outright."

"Well you are definitely right about the building. Although it is structurally sound, it would need a lot of work to turn it into a proper studio," Nico replied, "but there is a bigger reason why Quigley's holding out. Apparently there were some rumors that the government was looking to buy some parcels of the docks that are currently in private hands. From my sources, it looks like Quigley doesn't want to sell the building to you because he thinks he can get a big payoff from the government." Nico smiled. "Unfortunately for him, the rumors are just that—rumors. Fortunately for you Jax, the Syndicate has a little pull with Mr. Quigley. The man's a gambler and has some outstanding debt with the Syndicate. Until recently he's managed to keep up with his payments, but it's been increasingly difficult over the last few months without a steady rental income on that property, so while he won't budge with Rosen and Lowen, I don't foresee a problem getting him to play ball with me."

"Well, that's some good shit to hear," he said approvingly, "but even if we can get the building, there is our other problem with Otto. We haven't been able to reach out to him. With him on the Row, he has limited visitation. I asked Rosen to reach out to him, but he was denied access to him as Rosen, Lowen & Associates are known as counsel for the Sons. Rosen said that in order to reestablish the business, the Club really needs to have full ownership of the studio's catalog of films and we can't make an offer to buy Otto out without—" Jax said.

"Talking to him and getting him to sign off on the deal and buying him out," Nico concluded.

"So how can you get us out of this sitch?" Happy asked. "This is a little more down and dirty than some corporate paperwork shit to fix U-T up."

Nico leaned back in her chair and grinned sardonically at the biker. "Piece of cake," she declared.

"That's a big promise, little girl."

"It's one I can deliver," she said confidently. "This isn't bragging, Happy. I can fix this shit. I'm going to need a couple of things, but as I mentioned in our last meeting, one of them will be some funding."

"How much?" Jax asked.

With a smile, Nico dropped a six-figure sum that had Happy gasping.

"Shit, Tiny! Are you trying to rob us without a fuckin' gun?"

Nico crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not for me personally asshole. My fee is _free_ in consideration for what you did for my family, remember?" she said glaring at him. "But I've got palms that will need greasing, people who don't work for free and if you want this shit to happen as your friend Tig would say, I'm going to need plenty of 'lube'."

"I don't even want to know in what context that was made," Opie snickered.

As Jax eyed Nico and Happy as they continued to argue he started smirking. It would seem that his brother and the feisty lawyer were definitely at odds, and a little more familiar than he initially believed.

"Look, cut it out you two." Turning to Nico he said, "What else would you need?"

This was the opening Nico had been waiting for. "In order to make all of this work, I'd need to be on site."

"What? Miss Italian Diva in designer heels in a porn studio?" Happy hooted. "I'd like to see that, but maybe with you in _front_ of the camera."

"I'm not talking about in the porn studio," Nico countered, "I'm talking about me being _in Charming_."

_Ha! That shut him up._

"You want to come to Charming?" Opie asked slightly bewildered.

" _Want_ is a strong word. It's more necessity than anything. Being on site is the best way for me to get a handle on all of your issues. I can sort out the situation with Unser Trucking, come up with a solution to extricate Otto Delaney out of Cara Cara, and use my connections to purchase the warehouse that you want. But that's not the only problem you have."

"Well what the fuck else is there?" Jax asked.

"It's the timetable you're setting to get the porn business up and running considering the condition of the building. As I said, the overall structure of it is sound, but it's going to need some major repairs and redesigning to get the optimal use of the space. Summer is coming and finding a construction company to make time for a refit to get you into the building and producing by the fall is going to be near impossible. Fortunately for you, I have the solution to your problems with Torelli Construction." Nico grinned. "We have a facility in Stockton, and I can pull the strings to get you a quote for the work to get the building fitted up to code. We also own a supply company so obtaining the materials at cost plus 10% won't be a problem. And I have connections in the Clerk's Office and the Department of Building and Labor in order to expedite the necessary building permits required to start the work as soon as we are in possession of the building."

"That sounds pretty good," Opie said grinning.

"Now in order for this all to be completely legit, all of this needs to be done with legitimately earned money. I should be able to negotiate a deal so that money that you got from the insurance should cover the purchase of the building. You'll need additional funds for the rebuild of the new site and materials, as well as funds to get some of your talent back on retainer. But there is a way that we can start to generate some income for those expenses even before the doors reopen for business."

"How's that?" Happy asked.

"Your current list of epics. Right now, you're only distributing your movies in the States. The Syndicate has a couple of contacts that could be useful in expanding your distribution abroad to Eastern Europe. American porn is a big draw over there."

"How? It's in fuckin' English," Happy said irritably.

"Point 1, people outside the U.S. are a hell of a lot more literate and sophisticated than the average American when it comes to speaking more than one language. Point 2, Hap, its fucking _porn_. Do ya really need subtitles for that shit?" Nico said ironically as laughter exploded around the room.

"Bottom line, I can get all this shit squared away in five, six months tops. I don't think me being in your little town will be too much of an inconvenience for you."

 _Shit, that actually sounds like a pretty big fringe benefit right there_ , Happy smiled inwardly although he managed to keep his face serious.

Jax grinned as he eyed the confident young woman sitting across from him.

"Putting aside the fact that I still have to bring this to the table and convince my brothers that you can deliver on your promises, I think we have a deal." He held out a hand that Nico took and shook solemnly.

"Great." Nico smiled as she stood up. "I think we should celebrate."

* * *

Opie forked up another bite of the Chicken Parmesan served with a hearty helping of penne pasta and shoved the flavorful food into his mouth with gusto. The Club's soft spoken giant had always considered himself to be a strictly meat and potatoes man but even he had to admit that this pasta shit was pretty damn tasty.

Picking up his beer, he took a few grateful swallows, putting down the empty bottle with a sigh of pleasure. Their hostess was the only one drinking from the bottle of wine that one of the servers had placed on the table. Seeing that her guests hadn't touched their glasses, their new counsel had ordered the servers to bring in several bottles of premium beer for which Opie was grateful for. Wine just wasn't a thirst quencher for a typical biker.

Nico had definitely held up her end with the free grub. With their business concluded, she had several servers set up a buffet station—a fancier version of those aluminum pan deals Gemma was always using for big family do's—filled with an array of hearty Italian food and he and his brothers were steadily plowing through it. It'd be a wonder if they were able to make it back to Charming without passing out from carb overload. It was a good thing they'd be stopping off at Jury's to shoot the shit before returning to Charming.

Now having met with the savvy lawyer a few times, Opie was starting to recognize that Nico Torelli was definitely a different breed of woman. While she certainly was attractive and dressed in a similar business style of Ally Lowen, that was pretty much where the comparison ended. While Lowen was always cordial and definitely less money grubbing than her partner Scott Rosen, Nico was a little more down to earth, which Opie found somewhat surprising since the Torelli's were a little higher up on the food chain as a criminal enterprise. The two organizations did have their similarities, and as a result, Nico had a better grasp of how the Sons operated and was able—with a chameleon-like grace—to fit in no matter what the circumstance. Opie sure as shit couldn't imagine Lowen showing up to the Clubhouse wearing a pair of leather pants and a bustier in a quest to save her brother and fit in with a bunch of horny bikers, while Nico seemed to be comfortable in any guise, as long as she achieved her agenda.

Opie considered himself to be pretty laid back generally speaking, but when it came to his brothers and the Club, he was very skeptical when it came to outsiders, so it was surprising that he was finding himself willing to accept Nico Torelli's offer of help.

As they continued to enjoy the meal together, it was also becoming clear that Nico had a style and charm of her own and Opie had been surprised at how much her wry sense of humor had brought him to full blown laughter, something that Tara Knowles—another career professional—had never been able to do.

But it was especially clear that the dark haired beauty was as tough of nails as she continued to tear strips off of his brother. Opie smirked in amusement as it seemed as if his brother was too busy ragging on _Tiny_ to even eat his meal. It was becoming obvious to him that more had gone on between his brother and their new counsel than had previously been reported during Happy's housekeeping stint for the Syndicate.

_I'm going to have to get the story on that shit. Something tells me it's epic._

Even now Opie smothered a snort of laughter as Nico lifted her fork delicately, jabbing it in Happy's direction as she made drove her point home.

"The problem with you, old man," Nico jeered, "is you don't know when to call it quits, do you?"

"Why the fuck should I?" Happy retorted. "Especially since your ass is dead wrong, _Tiny_."

Having lost track of the conversation between the feisty shark and his brother in his musings about them, Opie watched as Nico was diverted from his brother's taunting—and veered off into what apparently was an old, heated subject close to her heart.

"Look Biker Boy, when are you going to get it through that tattooed thick skull of yours that my name is Nico—"

"Maybe when you grow a foot," Happy shot back, an evil grin on his face as he scooped up a huge bite of lasagna.

Observing a look of a woman who was about to lose her shit, Opie was grateful when Jax decided that now was as good as any time to step in.

 _Sides, it would be really difficult to fix our Club shit if Happy ended up sleeping with the fishes._ Opie chuckled at the thought.

"So," Jax drawled as he dipped a chunk of Italian bread in a pool of Bolognese sauce, "how soon do you think you can set up shop in Charming?" thereby effectively changing the subject while raising an eyebrow at his SAA, the intent obviously to get him to stop his shit.

Having eyed Jax's slightly humorous air, Nico berated herself for allowing Happy to jerk her chain, especially while she was on her own damn turf. Taking a minute, she took a sip of wine before replying. "I have a couple of things that I need to wind up here for the Syndicate. I figure a week, maybe two tops to wrap things up and to get my assistant to find me a place to stay in town before I can make the move."

"I think I can help you out with that. I have a business associate in real estate that I can tap to find you a place. It'll be one less thing on your plate to worry about." Jax watched as she considered his offer and her nod of acceptance.

"Thanks, I'd appreciate it."

"Well you better warn her that it won't be what she's accustomed to," Happy said snarkily. "We don't have marble floors out in the hood."

"I wouldn't expect that you would," Nico snapped back. "I'm sure that whatever Jackson can find will be suitable."

Opie raised an eyebrow at his best friend, the unspoken message was received and heard loud and clear, and their expression mirrored their feelings.

_What is_ _it_ _with these two?_

"Anyway," Jax said strongly to cut over both Nico and Happy, "I really think this deal is going to work out for us, especially considering you're not charging us a cent. But this shit is a lot of work for you to take on for us. I almost feel like we're taking advantage of you."

"Hey, a deal is a deal, Jax," Happy insisted. "Ti—Nico said she was willing to help us out in exchange for us handling shit for her and we did what we needed to do, so accept the help. No need to spend extra money if we don't have to."

"Let me guess," Nico drawled as she tapped her mauve-tipped nails on the table, "he's a cheap ass bastard, huh?" She watched as Opie coughed loudly several times before managing to speak.

"Uh, our brother here ascribes to the belief that we should all be mindful of wasteful spending," he replied with a straight face, although the curve of his lips indicated his amusement.

"Well there's no need to worry at all Jax. Money is not an issue for me. The fact is this will be kind of a mini vacation for me. Sometimes a woman needs to get away for a while." _Well, that's certainly part of the reason_ , she thought.

"Well despite that, I think that you deserve a little more than just a vacation for your troubles," Jax replied as he put down his fork. "I think that this situation could be the start of something good between us and the Syndicate.

"I know that Clay Morrow has had a long time relationship with your uncle, but as the Club's current President, I'm interested in establishing binding ties that will help grow our organization in the right direction. You speak of your connections and how they will help us reach our goals. I believe that the Club's connections in Charming could also help broker some new business for the legitimate arm of the Syndicate. After all, you're scratching our back." Jax grinned. "I think we should return the favor."

"Well, that certainly sounds intriguing. Why don't you tell me what you have in mind?"

* * *

Having made their way over to the valet parking area to retrieve their bikes, the three officers—having practically terrified the two nattily dressed valets earlier by refusing to allow anyone to park their rides—were in the process of suiting up for their trip home. With their bellies filled with good food and drink and a business deal successfully outlined, Jax figured that now was as good a time as any to yank his SAA's chain about the shit that had been bugging him all afternoon.

"So, Hap," Jax drawled as he eyed his brother while he leaned against his ride. " _Tiny_. I know that wasn't a reference to your dick—"

"Or was it?" Opie chimed in mischievously.

Happy casually flipped Opie the bird as Jax continued, "You wanna explain that shit?"

"What's to explain? Isn't it obvious? The bitch is _tiny_ ," the taciturn outlaw said as he pulled on his leather gloves.

"Oh no, I get that," Jax replied as he straddled his bike. "I was just wondering if you caught a bit of a vibe that maybe Ms. Torelli wasn't too fond of that shit."

"She's an uptight little bitch, ain't' she?" Happy chuckled. "She needs to let that hair down a bit, not take everything so damn serious."

"Well, maybe you should tone that shit down a bit, especially once she shows up in Charming. I saw her eyeing that bottle of wine she was drinking from. She was definitely contemplating smacking you upside the head with it," Jax said dryly as his brother stared at him incredulously. "Just saying, bro. She's all business and that teasing shit ain't good for our professional relationship."

"Tiny is many things, but she ain't stupid to take that shit too serious," Happy retorted.

"Oh, she's _many things_ , huh? How would you know? Is there something you're not sharing with us, Hap?" Opie said as he leaned his arms over his bike's handlebars.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Happy said gruffly as he shoved his helmet onto his head.

"I think you do, after all, you two _did_ spend a bit of time together on that job," Opie grinned roguishly. "The way you two were going at it, either you're dying to see each other naked or already have. I'm betting you've been tapping that ass on the DL this whole time."

"I'm almost tempted to agree," Jax chimed in. "But let's face it, Nico ain't really his type."

"Bro, as long as she's got a pussy to go with that impressive rack, she's definitely his type," Opie retorted with a smirk.

"I'm just saying, Hap, she is a classy broad and you're kinda rough around the edges, old man." Jax grinned. "Matter of fact, ain't that some gray I'm seeing in your stubble?"

"Fuck my gray, and fuck you two assholes," Happy said grumpily. "You don't know shit about where I would and wouldn't stick my dick."

"Whatever, bro. The sexual tension was kicking ass in there. I came this close to suggesting you skip dinner, go find a broom closet or bathroom and just fuck her already," Opie quipped as Jax's shoulders shook with laughter.

"What I shoulda done," Happy said irritably, "was skipped dinner and kicked both your asses."

"Hey, relax, bro. We're just yanking your chain, but if you're gonna tag that shit, maybe you should do it before she gets to Charming. Tigger is just waiting to land on that fine ass of hers." Jax shrugged his shoulders as his SAA glared at him. "Hey, just because I love my old lady don't mean I've become blind to the fairer sex. It's kind of hard not to notice when a woman looks as good as Nico."

"Yeah, and you can bet Kozy and Tigger will be pushing up on her first chance they get. I almost feel sorry for the poor woman," Opie said with a shake of his head.

"Don't," Happy said, his lips set in a grim line. "That little firecracker is a ball buster and can handle herself. Now, if the two of you can stop gossiping like a couple of old ladies, it's time to get our asses on the road." Flipping up his kickstand, the outlaw gunned the motor and pulled out of the parking lot, nearly causing one of the valets to leap over the hood of a car to avoid being run down.

Opie eyed his brother before revving his motor. "Sounds like somebody is protesting a bit too much, don'cha think?"

"Yeah, I do," Jax grinned as he pulled out of the spot. "Something tells me it's going to be one long, hot summer in Charming."

* * *

**Glossary** **:**

La Cucina: The Kitchen


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada—Saturday, March 26, 2011** _

"Why is it that I am plagued with stubborn children whose only aim in life is to cause me _nothing_ but pain and suffering?" Rosanna Torelli moaned as she eyed her youngest daughter across the kitchen's island as she calmly sliced prosciutto for the large tray of antipasto she was preparing. "If only my Gianni was here I wouldn't have to tolerate this foolishness. He is the only one that can get through your stubborn Italian hide. As God is my witness I'm going to an early grave." Rosanna's theatrics increased as she paced back and forth on the kitchen's marble floor, the heels of her Gucci pumps clicking loudly.

Refusing to make eye contact, Nico rolled her eyes as she continued her preparations.

_God, somebody, please give me a gun so I can put myself out of my fucking misery._

Unfortunately no one appeared to hear her inward cries for intercession as her mother continued to berate her. As Rosanna Torelli entered the second hour of bitching and complaining, the usually fun-filled family event had quickly soured for everyone involved.

It would seem that not even her sisters would take pity on their younger sibling as both had their heads down to keep themselves out of the line of fire. Standing next to Nico at the kitchen island, Donatella prepared Ravioli from scratch, cutting the pasta into small squares with absolute precision, a bowl of a savory blend of three-cheeses and spices waiting to be stuffed and sealed into the pasta, while Gianna—ensconced in a comfortable chair at the large oak table that had belonged to Rosanna's great, great-grandmother—meticulously chopped tomatoes, basil, fresh garlic and Pamesan cheese for Bruschetta. Only Dominic, her partner in crime, made a couple of vain attempts to try to rein in his mother's untimely temper tantrum, but to no avail.

The Torelli's kitchen was a massive affair. Nearly twice as large as Nico's own kitchen, it was a room that for the most part was usually occupied by the servants that Rosanna Torelli had trained to take care of the nutritional needs of her family, the health of her husband being of primary consideration as well as making sure to keep her still stunning figure at the age of 64. Rosanna took pride that she could still bounce a quarter off her ass and had often smirked that she looked far better than her much younger and but extremely trashy counterparts on the reality show _Mob Wives_ , which to her mind was little more than an expose into the life of the wives of former big bosses who had subsequently been arrested for their crimes.

As a true mob wife, Rosanna took great pride in her family, and on days where the matriarch of the family wanted to have her clan about her, the social event required all the Torelli women to gather together to create the home cooked meals that Gianni Torelli loved so much.

Nico's eyes were wistful as they traveled around the kitchen. Usually most of the family would be underfoot as the meal was prepared, and prior to her father's incarceration, as the head of the family Gianni would be joking and telling stories to his grandchildren while sitting at the head of the oak table, usually bouncing the youngest on his knee. However, with Nico's nieces and nephews staying far away from the kitchen having correctly ascertained that their Nonna was on a tear and her brothers-in-laws making the very rational decision to have a cigar out by the swimming pool out of the line of fire, Nico had no other family around to come to her rescue as her mother tore another strip off her ass. The ass ripping was, of course, on the usual subject and one that Rosanna had taken to heart more and more since the death of her ex-son-in-law.

"There is absolutely no reason why Tonio should stay at that school away from his family!" Rosanna walked around the island to shake her bejeweled fingers in Nico's face, her many diamonds and rubies sparkling wildly as she made her point. "I never could understand why in the world you and Rocco—May he rot in Hell—sent my grandson half way around the world to be raised by a bunch of strangers!" Rosanna threw her hands up in the air for emphasis.

"For the last time, Mama, Tonio is not being 'raised' by strangers. I raised _my_ son for 13 years before we decided he was old enough to appreciate experiencing some new opportunities," Nico ground out through clenched teeth. "It was Rocco's and my call to make, not _yours_ , especially considering _I'm_ the one who pushed him out!"

"And I'm the one that pushed YOU out!" her mother replied angrily. "Show me some respect!"

"Mama, Mama," Dom crooned in a consolingly tone as he put his arms around from his mother's waist from behind. "Calm down."

"Why should I, _mio figlio_?" Rosanna sniffed dejectedly. "Your sister is ruining her life!"

"Oh come on Mama. You don't really believe that shit," he countered.

"Abbastanza! No nasty talk in front of me or my new grand baby," Rosanna eyed Gianna from her position at the table protectively. "You'll make the baby come out ugly."

"Oh puh-lease!" Nico said crossly. "No more old wives tales. This is the 21st Century. You're killing me, here!"

"You're killing ME! If I end up at the emergency room at St. Mary's, it won't be hard to know the reason why." Rosanna turned to vent her feelings at her oldest daughter. "It's bad enough she won't bring my grandson home, but your sister is determined to remain an old maid for the rest of her life instead of getting married again and having more children before her eggs dry up. Oh no, being a wife and mother is not _good enough_ for Nicoletta Antonia Torelli. _She_ has to leave her poor, lonely, and decrepit mother behind to go be a lawyer and work for a bunch of dirty bikers," Rosanna bemoaned, smoothly moving onto her next bone of contention. "I can't believe Giacomo supports you abandoning the family."

"First off, you are not 'poor', lonely or decrepit'," Nico shot back. "Second, unlike you, Zío knows I'm a grown woman and he fully supports my decision."

"My brother is just giving into to you because he's spoiled you rotten."

"Kill me now," Nico murmured to Donatella. "If you love me, grab a butcher knife and just stab me to death in the fucking heart."

"You know Mama has a point," Donatella said as she eyed her sister sympathetically. "You _still_ look good, but you're not getting any younger."

"See!" Rosanna said triumphantly as Nico hung her head in despair. "At least one of my daughters has common sense."

"I have common sense too, Mama," Gianna complained.

"Of course you do my sweetheart. Here, let me get you another glass of milk for the baby," Rosanna crooned as she retrieved a glass from a cupboard and got a pitcher of milk from the oversized refrigerator.

"Of course Donnie has sense because she lives by 'Rosanna Torelli's Italian Guide to Love, Marriage and Happiness'," Nico said pointedly. "Too bad it doesn't always work Mama. Rocco Agnello as Exhibit A shoots your record to hell."

At that Rosanna stomped past Gianna's outstretched hand to slam the glass of milk down on the island. Refusing to acknowledge the truth in her daughter's statement, Rosanna cupped her son's face in her hands. "At least _you_ haven't done anything to send me to an early grave. That's something to live for at any rate."

_I need to get Mama off my ass_ , Nico thought grimly and eyeing her brother decided that a sacrificial lamb was in order.

"Mama, at least _I_ gave you a grandson. Did you know that Dom's girlfriend doesn't want any kids?" she said archly as she placed the large platter of antipasto on the table opposite her pregnant sister who promptly snatched up a piece of mozzarella cheese and prosciutto and shoved it into her mouth with gusto.

Watching Rosanna's scandalized face and the sudden stream of Italian that she aimed on her hapless brother, Nico grinned.

"Shit," Donatella muttered as she eyed her younger sister with amazement. "That was so wrong," she mouthed at her as Dom put his hands on his mother's shoulders as he tried to calm her down, shouting over her wails.

"Yeah, I know," Nico replied in an undertone, "but when your ass is getting slow roasted, sometimes you have to throw different log on the fucking fire." Grabbing the glass of milk, she handed it to Gianna before stripping off her apron, and making a break for the door.

_I need a drink._

* * *

Sitting in her father's large executive style chair, Nico put her bare feet on top of the desk and sighed as she sipped a glass of brandy. Her father's study had always been a refuge for her ever since she was a little girl. Whenever she got into trouble with her mother, the first person that she would seek out was her father who was invariably in his study. The large room was definitely a man's domain, with deep rich wall paneling, oversized leather chairs, thick carpeting and smelled of the fine liquor and expensive cigars that he loved to drink and smoke.

Now as she sat back in his chair, Nico contemplated her last row with her mother wondering why if she was such a great lawyer she couldn't out argue the mother that had pushed her out into the world, but when she thought about it, Nico realized that Rosanna Torelli could probably take on the Pope. _And win._

_You have nobody to blame but yourself. You should have just called from Charming and left Mama a message that you'd be out of town for six months._

Nico loved her mother, she truly did, but she was starting to think that there should be a law on the books that all teenaged girls who had a controlling harpy as a mother should be allowed to take them to the doctor and put them on valium when they hit puberty or their mother hit menopause, whichever came first.

"Well thanks a fuckin' lot," a voice growled from the door and she looked up to spot her aggrieved brother.

Nico winced a little taking in Dom's tense broad shoulders and his folded arms across his broad chest.

_Little brother is pissed._

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that but—" she said apologetically, but was cut off.

"But nothing! That shit was wrong!" he said as he strode into the office. "How could you throw my ass under the bus like that?"

"I know, I know. It was low, but I couldn't take it anymore. It was either that or I was going to leap across the kitchen and wring her neck and I didn't think that would go over too well since Papa still loves her and shit." Nico peeped at him between her lashes. "Is she still breathing?"

"Barely," he muttered. "It was a miracle she didn't have a heart attack right then and there. If Gianna hadn't faked a back cramp to distract her and save me, Mama would still be ripping me a new asshole."

"Then let me make it up to you," Nico said consolingly. Standing up she walked towards him, dragging him over and shoving him into their father's chair before going to the liquor cabinet and fixing him a stiff drink. "Here, this ought to relax you a bit," she said before she plopped herself in one of the chairs across from her father's desk.

"I'm going to need more than this shit to get over Mama." Dom took a couple of swallows before putting the heavy crystal tumbler down. "At least you're getting away for a while. It's bad enough I'm stuck here trying to learn how to run this shit. Now I'm going to have Ma crawling up my ass about Elena too."

Seeing his forlorn expression, Nico rose and rounding the desk perched herself on the corner of the desk as she eyed her brother's dismal stare. "It won't be as bad as all that, Dom."

"Yeah it will. These last couple of weeks have been tough." Dom reached out and took her hand in his. "How am I supposed to get through this shit without you backing me up?"

"Little brother, I'm not worried about you at all. You can do this with one arm tied behind your back. You don't think you have the ability to handle the business, Dom, but you do. Staying here and running it is your destiny. I wish it was anything but that, but it is," Nico said compassionately.

"You're much better at this shit than I will ever be," Dom replied. "You don't think I know that a lot of shit you cleaned up while Pop has been inside was fixing up Rocco's mistakes? That some of the deals that the family has been working on came out of your head first?"

"That's not the point, Dom."

"It's _exactly_ the point. You have the brain for this shit. Yeah, I probably can learn what I need to know to run shit adequately, but you have Pop's gift for organization and development naturally. You know I never wanted to do this shit," Dom sighed ruefully. "I never wanted a ready-made empire, Nic. I've always wanted something of _my own_ , to put my own ideas into play. This," he gestured to the expensively designed room, "is all Pop's. It's his legacy. He earned all this shit. _I didn't_."

Nico squeezed his hand gently. "I know, but I'm proud of you just the same. You went out and made your own way for the last few years and you did it well. Your crew is yours and you've been doing what you love the best, but you are right about one thing. This _is_ all Papa's and he's not around to protect what's his. _You are_. He needs you to step up and protect the family until his return," she counseled, looking at him.

"I know, and I'll do it. I'm not going to step back from my responsibilities. It's just that doing this shit would be a lot easier with you around."

"And that's the reason why I need to go," Nico urged. "Zio is right. You need to take up the reins of the family and you can't be seen as relying on anyone to make the hard calls who doesn't have a pair of big brass ones, Dom, otherwise you'll lose respect. A few of the Underbosses may respect the fact I have a brain, but there are those who aren't too happy that I've been the go-to-girl of late. Me being out of town for the next six months gives you the opportunity to show them and the capos that you are in control, maybe implement some ideas that you been wanting to explore. Zío is all you need to keep you on point while you get up to speed, and this time away will give me time to think about what to do about Tonio."

"You know I'd never bust your chops, but maybe Mama is right. Why not bring my nephew home, Nico? I can't really believe that you want him to stay away, especially now that Rocco is gone," Dom paused, reaching for her hand to give it a gentle squeeze. "You know, we haven't really talked about him since the shit went down."

Nico sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. "No, we haven't. I thought it was best. I know you were having a hard time with it. Finding out about some of the shit he was into was difficult for you."

"Not as hard as it was for you and Tonio, although I'm starting to wonder if you knew beforehand some of the shit he was into and kept it from us all." Dom smiled as he noted her look of surprise. "What? Just because I considered Rocco to be as close as a brother doesn't mean that I didn't acknowledge his faults although I didn't realize how deep they ran. You know, you two kept a pretty good front on things, but I think I knew for a long time that shit wasn't right between you, especially after you sent Tonio away to boarding school. I guessed that you more or less tolerated being married to him for Mama's sake, so when you announced that you two were getting a divorce, as much as I valued my friendship with Rocco, I supported you and did what I could to calm Mama's ass down because _you_ are my sister and blood is always thicker than water.

"Now, knowing what the piece of shit was into and how he put you in danger with his gambling and shit, I don't regret that Rocco's dead. He had it coming. Because of his massive gambling debts those assholes made an example out of him by killing him. They could have killed you too." Standing up he wrapped his arms around Nico. "Losing you would have killed me, big sister."

Squeezing him gently, her face buried in his chest, Nico's heart ached with guilt. The lies she had told to keep the truth from Dom about Rocco's culpability in their father's hit had been difficult and setting up the scenario to cover her tracks had been a necessary evil, but she hadn't really realized just how much of a toll it had taken on her brother. It had certainly taken one on her and until Nico could be sure that the attempted coup was definitely put to bed, there was no way she would allow her son to come home permanently until she was sure of his safety.

Pulling away from him, Nico rested her hands on his shoulders. "Hey, no need to go there. It's taken me some time, but I've chosen to accept that everything happened for a reason and worked out the way that it did. Rocco is gone and you're taking your rightful place as head of the family. I have full confidence in you doing what needs to be done to protect us all and believe me, when I think the time is right, Tonio will end up where he needs to be. As for me, I need this time away. Helping the Sons straighten out a few business affairs is something for me to do on the lighter side of things and most importantly the move prevents me from committing matricide. All-in-all, I think it's a good play."

"I just can't see how you working in Charming is going to be that much fun. You, in some sleepy little town getting along with hardcore bikers?" Dom kidded and winced as Nico hit his shoulder with a balled up fist.

"You make me sound like a fucking snob. I'm not Mama."

"No, but you aren't white trash either." Dom eyed her warily. "Are you certain your excitement about taking it easy has nothing to do with that bald-headed motherfucker I busted your ass with a month ago?"

Tamping down her dismay, Nico eyed her brother derisively. "Oh come on Dom. Don't be crazy. Just because a woman wants a tune up every now and then doesn't mean she's on the hunt for a new man."

"Hey, I didn't say you were looking for a new man. I'm just expressing my concern that you might be getting yourself involved in something that's over your head. That asshole didn't seem to be the type to sweep you off your feet. More like a fucking Hell's Angel."

"He's a Son of Anarchy, Dom. Get it right. And no, he's definitely no angel." Nico patted his cheek confidentially. "Don't you worry. I think I can handle myself around a bunch of outlaws."

"Just checking is all. I'd hate to have to show up in Charming because some shit got twisted."

"Never you mind about Charming. Just keep your mind on what's important and leave the Sons to me."

* * *

_**Ely State Prison Infirmary, Nevada—Sunday, March 27, 2011** _

"Papa, I _know_ Mama put the girls up to that shit. You have to concentrate on getting better so you can get out of this hell hole to keep me from killing your crazy ass wife," Nico said with a mix of love and exasperation to the prone figure lying on the hospital bed in front of her. Biting the inside of her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, Nico was determined not to allow herself to break down as she observed the fading virility of the man who was her father.

"Bella mia, it would probably take a better man than I am right now to stop your mother from working shit behind the scenes. Throw your sisters into the shit pot, and it's all but impossible," Gianni Torelli said, his voice raspy. "So which one of them tricked your ass into coming?"

"Donatella." Nico watched as a familiar broad grin crossed his face and suddenly it was if the old Gianni Torelli was alive and present.

"She's my flesh and blood and I love her to death, but that one's a sneaky bitch," Gianni pronounced with pride.

"Tell me about it," his daughter said irritably as she sat in a dilapidated chair next to his bedside.

Briefly Nico's mind cast back to the last time her father was together with the family shortly before his incarceration. An exuberant Gianni had spent the entire evening swinging his wife of over 43 years around the ballroom of their home as they celebrated their anniversary among friends and family. His dark hair liberally streaked with gray had been perfectly styled above dark eyebrows and deep aquamarine blue eyes had twinkled merrily in a handsome face as he looked down with love at his wife, his powerful but stylishly trim figure in a custom made tuxedo on his 6'4 frame.

Now Nico could only hope that it was just the cloudy late afternoon sky that filtered through the barred windows that accounted for the almost gray pallor of her father's cheeks and the perpetual five o'clock shadow he wore, and that the deep shadows that the semi-dark room cast over him only _seemed_ to diminish his larger than life personality, shrinking his once impressive frame.

With the other beds empty next to her father, the Torelli family were the only occupants in the prison's infirmary. The minimum security prison for mostly white collar criminals was small, holding less than 900 prisoners and predominantly housed convicts who were doing short time—usually two to seven years for a variety of offenses from corporate espionage to money laundering and Ponzi schemes, although there were some prisoners of a more lethal variety—con artists, a few low-level drug runners and the like. Considering the fact that her father's case—had it been properly handled—should have netted him no jail time at all instead of the 5 to 7 year sentence he received, Nico was grateful that he had been sentenced to serve his time here, as opposed to a prison that was full of far more dangerous convicts. Unfortunately, the combination of Ely Prison's minimum security rating and having the Warden in one's pocket had not prevented her father from getting shanked in the shower and nearly dying like an animal only a year and a half into his sentence, the outcome of which led to the discovery of liver cancer and subsequently kept him isolated in protective custody.

The close location of the prison—about an hour's drive from Reno's city limits—made it easy enough for Nico and the family to visit the Don often and to keep close watch on his health. Nico often made the trip once or twice a week to check in on her father and keep him abreast of family affairs and issues within the Syndicate.

"So," Gianni drawled, "who is the man your sister is trying to hook you up with?"

"Someone who works with Alberto," Nico sniffed audibly. "Bitch ass used her kids as a bargaining chip to get me to come over," she grumbled, her blue eyes somewhat stormy. "Said they were missing their favorite aunt so I caved in like an idiot. I should have known something was up when she insisted that I didn't show up wearing a t-shirt and leggings, to put on 'something nice'."

Nico rolled her eyes as her father chuckled. "Sounds like you should have seen that shit coming."

"Well I didn't," she said miffed. "Instead I get to Donnie's and she and Al and Gia and Enzo and the kids were all dressed up. Next thing I know I'm being introduced to fuckin' Lorenzo Amici." Nico watched as her father quirked an eyebrow.

"I think I met him before," Gino smirked. "Doesn't he have sweaty hands?" He watched his daughter shudder.

"Does he ever! _And_ he has a full beard."

"Your sister is getting forgetful. She must be going through the Change early. She knows you _hate_ beards."

"Exactly! A little stubble, five o'clock shadow, fine, sure, that's sexy as hell, but a full fuckin' beard?! It's like kissing a mouth covered in steel wool!" Nico practically bellowed. "The minute I was introduced I knew that I had been had. I tried to make up an excuse to duck out, but Donnie wasn't having it. Instead I had to be lectured by Al about my responsibilities towards my family."

Although Nico loved her brothers-in-laws dearly, they were still a part of the "male only" club that typified the Syndicate. They had some appreciation of her skills as a lawyer, but, like most of their associates, they believed that a woman's place was in the home. A woman was too fragile and emotional a creature to handle the hard realities associated with living the life in the mob, the exposure to violence and the vices that the family provided to its clients to make a fine living too difficult for any woman to accept or handle with the stoicism necessary to control a large organization like the Syndicate, never mind them making life altering decisions that their menfolk had to make in order to protect the family.

Nico sighed as she relayed a part of her conversation with her brother-in-law to her father. At 51, Alberto Lipari was a handsome man in his prime, his dark hair tinged with silver making him appear more like a distinguished banker than a part of an Italian-based crime syndicate, something that he used to his advantage. His loyalty to the Syndicate was second only to his love for Donatella and Gianni Torelli who had been so good to him. So Nico knew that the concern he expressed towards her was well meaning and genuine as he tried to get her to see the benefits of seeking another mate, but nonetheless, it had been still irritating.

" _You are still a young woman, Nico," Alberto had said as he cornered her in the living room. "Yes, Rocco turned out to be a bad husband spending more time in Vegas with whores and gambling and shit, but that doesn't mean you can't find someone who is worthy of you. Lorenzo is perfect for you, and can give you a chance to do right by Tonio and give him some brothers and sisters while he is still young enough to enjoy them. And Lorenzo is very broadminded for an Italian. He won't have a problem with you continuing to work for the family although I'm sure he wouldn't mind it if you chose to be just a wife and mother again."_

" _I was_ _never_ _just a wife and mother, Albie," Nico had retorted, "something which you've seem to have forgotten."_

Nico shook her head at the thoughts of her well-meaning family as she reached out to clasp her father's hand. "Papa, after everything I went through with Rocco I couldn't break it to Alberto that I'm not trying to find someone worthy of me," Nico said with exasperation. "I just want to get fuckin' laid on the regular," she continued, biting her lip to smother her laughter as a slightly pained expression crossed her father's face. "Sorry Papa, but it's the truth."

Gianni rolled his eyes. "Don't apologize _bella_. We're both adults, here. I know you have _needs_ ," he huffed, "but it's probably best for all concerned if Rosie never finds out." He squeeze her hand gently. "You know your mother means well—"

"I know Papa, but she needs to quit that shit already. After everything that happened with Rocco I would have hoped that she would leave me be to handle my own shit by now."

"You need to resign yourself to the fact that that shit is never going to happen. She's a mother and what mother is ever satisfied that their child knows what will make them happy better than she can?" Gianni eyed her with fierce blue eyes. "I know it's hard, but you need to cut your mother a little slack."

"But—"

"No buts, _bella_. Your mother is having a hard time of it. I'm stuck in here, and she's out in the world and the one thing that matters to her most is that all her chicks are happy and safe and for Rosie she equates being married and loaded down with children as being safe and happy. It's the only life that she knows and if she's using this opportunity to push you into another relationship I can guarantee it's because maybe on some level she feels responsible for pushing you to marry Rocco, as I do," he said a little wistfully.

Nico sighed as she took in her father's disheartened expression. "Papa it wasn't your fault," she started but was interrupted.

"I know it was, sweetheart and it's a father's lot in life to accept the mistakes he has made for his children. Maybe if I had been less of a chickenshit and a little more progressive, you could have avoided all that shit with Rocco."

Nico's brow crinkled into a frown. "What do you mean?"

Gianni gestured to the water bottle on table beside his bed. Passing it to him, Nico watched as her father took several deep swallows, handing the bottle back before he finally spoke.

"I love all of my children equally. I tell this to everyone I know in the hopes that if I hear myself saying it enough I'll eventually believe it. But it's a lie."

"Papa—"

"Listen to me now," he said sharply. "I watched all four of you grow up, saw all of your traits—good and bad—and the fact is that you, _bella_ , out of all your siblings are something special to me—smart, dedicated, you love your family and you have a fuckin' head for business that is second only to my own. Don't get me wrong, I love your sisters, but they are just like your mother, God bless her—they live for and die for the family and their children.

"And I love my son despite his need to go out on his own and spending all his time racing cars and shit. I love Dom. Always have and always will, and according to your Uncle Jimmy, he is coming along with the business and I have no doubt that eventually he will take over the family and do right by it. But _you_ —you are just like _me_. I saw that ever since you were a tiny little girl. You're a fighter, don't take shit from nobody. You went to school and when you graduated _cum sum laude_ from University and Law School, you showed people what we Torelli's are made of. I was more proud of you on those days than the day I walked you down the aisle, well, except for the day you gave birth to my grandson," he said, noting the moist eyes of his daughter.

"But if I wasn't such a stubborn ass guinea, if I was strong enough to have paved the way for you to take my place as head of the family despite all the fall out that probably would have gone down, even if some of the underbosses decided to bail on the Family, you never would have married that fake ass Rocco, never have had to go through being with somebody that wasn't worthy of you. Wouldn't have had to clean up my mess and get rid of his ass for trying to kill me and wrest away control of the Family. Now I know this is a lot to drop on you, but I wanted you to know how I felt in case—well, if I don't get out of here—" he trailed off.

"Don't ever say that shit Papa," Nico said brokenly. "Don't even _think_ it."

Gianni reached up to wipe the tears from his daughter's face cupping her cheek in his large hand. "No days are promised to anyone sweetheart and I don't want to leave this earth with things unsaid," he said adamantly. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you and that I know that you coulda have run the whole family if need be. I know it's not something that you ever really wanted, but I want you to know that I know you could have done it. I always knew it, but instead, I backed your mother on her insistence on you tying the knot and I was wrong. So now that you got rid of that piece of shit, I'm not going to back your mother or anyone else pressing you into another marriage. And I'm not going to bust your chops about who you wanna be with or stop you from getting a little enjoyment out of life. So if you wanna as your generation says 'knock some boots' with some bald headed biker, I'm not going to give you any shit on it!" Gianni said with a grin as Nico's mouth dropped open. Tapping his fist lightly on her chin, the Don grinned widely. "Yeah, I know about that shit. Your uncle ratted you out. I didn't get my boxers in a twist. You deserve to have a little fun," he said shrugging his shoulders philosophically.

Nico sat back in her chair and laughed long and hard swiping away tears that ran down her cheeks. "I knew Zio had given me his 'blessing' to get my freak on, but how the fuck did Zio know I was having a little fun?"

"Well you can thank Dom for that. He blew your shit up to your uncle. Now, now, it was just out of brotherly affection and concern," Gino warned as he noted a battle light enter his daughter's eyes. "Just because you're his older sister doesn't mean he ain't gonna look out for you so he casually brought it up with Jimmy. Dom was pretty surprised that your uncle seemed okay with your new 'friend' and Jimmy gave me a heads up just in case Rosie found out so I could rein her ass in if need be." Gianni shook his head wryly. "I have to admit, I'd rather you find somebody who was a little more refined, but you're a grown ass woman. You know what you like. Now your mother, should she find out that your fucking a biker—she's a whole different kettle of fish," he warned.

"Then I'll make sure she doesn't find out shit," she promised.

"So," Gianni said casually, "is this shit serious between you and this, eh, what's his name?"

"Happy," she supplied not entirely surprised by his interest.

"Strange name," he muttered.

"Even stranger man," Nico replied. "As far as it being serious, no. I'm just letting my hair down a little, that's all."

"Well, Jimmy seemed quite impressed with how he handled Rocco."

"He and the MC did a good job for us."

"Which is why you want to help them out."

"His President is willing, so yes. Besides, it will give me a chance to get out of Reno for a while, and to keep out of Dominic's shadow while Zio is training him. Dom needs to do this on his own, without me being around to hold his hand."

"Too true."

"Being in Charming, I can work for the Club, still coordinate things on the corporate side, troubleshoot any issues for the Family and continue to oversee working on shit to get you out of here," she paused. "And we _are_ going to get you out Papa and right into the best facility money can buy to get you well. I've got everything set up. You've just got to hold on until we can get you out. We're going to petition the Court to bring in a specialist to see you; see if we can get specialized treatment here for you that we pay out of pocket at no cost to Nevada taxpayers."

Gianni grinned as he reached out again to cup her face in his large hand. "Whatever happens _bella_ , I know you've done your best and to me that's all that matters."

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Monday, March 28, 2011** _

_This rest stop off of I-22 is a surprisingly quiet place for an assignation_ , Jax Teller thought as he lit a cigarette and blew a trail of smoke through the window of a blue pickup. Sitting in the farthest corner of the mostly empty lot, the chilly spring air wafted through the open window as the biker waited patiently for his new partner.

_If Clay knew who I was waiting to see, he'd probably shit a brick_ , Jax thought with some amusement. After all, men of money and privilege usually had little interest in mixing company with men who were considered the scum of society, but as the dark gray 2010 Lexus pulled up beside him indicated Jacob Hale Junior had come to understand that outlaw scum had their uses.

Tossing his cigarette out of the window, Jax got out of the truck and slammed the door shut and watched as his partner did the same. The two men ambled off to the side to where a weak lamp cast enough of a glow so that they were both visible to one another.

"Jax," Hale said in a measured tone.

"Hale," Jax replied. "Glad we could meet up tonight."

"Maybe we should have picked a place more conducive for a discussion. Its nearly pitch dark out here," Hale said uneasily as he eyed the deserted lot.

"Well you could have stopped by at T-M, but I figured that might have been a little too high profile for either of us."

"There is that," Hale admitted. "So I guess I should start off by saying thank you. You really delivered."

"You're welcome, but if you'll recall I didn't help you out of the goodness and kindness of my heart," Jax smirked.

"No you didn't," Hale said gruffly. Putting a hand into his trench coat pocket, he withdrew a long envelope.

Jax reached out and took the content, shoving it into his kutte. "So this is all I'll need?" He watched as Hale nodded.

"It's an advanced copy of the request for proposal. You're getting it ahead of the rest of the other garages in NorCal bidding for the project. Just have your counsel prepare it and provide all of T-M's details. When I get a better sense of what the bidding will come in at, I'll provide you with the numbers you need to complete your proposal. It will go through review and when it's all done, Teller-Morrow will be awarded the contract for the maintenance of all of Charming Heights vehicles, all above board."

"I have to say I like how old white money operates. All legal and shit." Watching Hale's expression, Jax quirked an eyebrow. "Problem?"

"No problem," Hale said quietly. "I'm just surprised about how surprised I am at all of this. The Club has been fighting progress tooth and nail ever since they arrived in Charming. I guess I'm finding it hard to understand why you're turning over a new leaf."

"Well you know what they say: if you can't beat 'em, join em." Jax smiled in the darkness. "Just remember what I told you Hale. With me sitting at the head of the table, things in Charming are gonna change for the better, which brings me to another part of our upward and onward plan. You still have that lot next door to T-M on your books?"

"Yes," Hale said after a long moment. "It's been on the market for five years now. I've been trying to sell that parcel of land forever but with—" he stopped short.

"—with the Club next door, it wasn't that big of a draw," Jax concluded with a smile. "That's all good, because I think it's time it comes off the market." For the next few minutes, the outlaw outlined his plan to the amazement of the local developer.

"That's a pretty big investment to make, Jackson. Are you sure about this?"

"Is that concern I hear in your voice for me Jake? I think I'm touched."

"Just thinking that you might be biting off more than you can chew is all."

"No need for you to be concerned. I'm sure your interest is due to your fear that the town won't be too happy with you but I wouldn't sweat it. Your term is up this year and it's unlikely that you would get reelected again so you don't have to worry about pissing off the townsfolk. Besides, at least you'll get something for the land, more than you will ever get from anybody else looking to start a business next to a bunch of bikers."

"I guess there is that," Hale allowed.

"But next door isn't the only piece of property I'm interested in." He watched as Hale smiled wryly.

"I didn't realize I had such a budding entrepreneur on my hands."

"In more ways than one. I have a couple of opportunities that I need help on and I think we can help each other out." Jax grinned as he saw the spark of interest in Hale's eyes.

"Well, then," the older man grinned. "Let's talk."

* * *

**Glossary**

Abbastanza enough

mio figlio my son

Bella mia my beautiful

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Thursday, March 31, 2011** _

Spring had finally arrived in Norcal and the weather was a beautiful mix of sunny skies and crisp breezes when Nico Torelli arrived in the small town of Charming.

The savvy lawyer had managed to spend her last evening in Reno with her siblings and her nieces and nephews. The only no-show had been her mother. Rosanna, having finally realized that absolutely nothing she said or did would get her stubborn daughter to stay in Reno where she belonged had opted to visit her husband in prison rather than attend Nico's goodbye party. As far as Nico was concerned, her mother ditching had been fine with her. Sitting at Donnie's dining room table eating and laughing with her family for what would probably be the last time for several months made Nico realize just how much she would miss them. But as she watched her brother Dom joking with their uncle who had shown up for the festivities, Nico was even more sure that her departure was a necessary evil in order to help Dom assume his rightful place in the Syndicate.

Nico had gotten up early on her final morning in Reno. Spending her time between completing her packing and giving both her housekeeper and assistant some last minute instructions, Nico finally said goodbye to her home, her own private sanctuary once she had finally divorced Rocco and squeezed into her sports car as much of her belongings that could fit before taking off for the nearly 4-hour trip.

She had made excellent time from Reno having left mid-morning and had thoroughly enjoyed the scenic drive to the Northern California mountains. Nico had to admit to herself that she was more than a little excited to be leaving Reno. She hadn't been kidding when she told her brother that she needed a break. The responsibilities associated with keeping a watchful eye on all of the Syndicate's legitimate businesses and troubleshooting foul ups from its criminal enterprises, all the while dealing with a traitorous bastard of an ex-husband was enough to send any rational woman screaming into the night. Top it off with an over-controlling mother who was dealing very badly without the seriously ailing love of her life and it was enough to send Nico into orbit without the benefit of a space shuttle.

Now as Nico pulled her car onto the T-M lot, her highly trained business eye noted with approval the steady stream of activity with the sounds of mechanics hard at work and what appeared to be their satisfied clientele as they pulled out with their repaired vehicles.

But there was really only one person that Nico was interested in seeing and her bright blue eyes sparkled with a hint of joy and anticipation as she spotted her quarry. Walking across the lot from one of the garage bays, Happy Lowman's stride was full of purpose as he made his way across the lot towards her. Wearing nothing but an open short-sleeved T-M work shirt over a plain wife beater despite the brisk spring breeze, the outlaw made an attractive picture as he drew closer.

Finally pulling her car to a stop, Nico almost forgot to unhook her seatbelt before exiting the car.

_Down girl! How will it look if Hap sees you losing your shit?_

Steadying herself, Nico took her time before finally getting out of her vehicle. Slamming the car door behind her, Nico leaned against it, bringing up the collar of her stylish white trench coat to protect her neck from the strong breeze and crossed her arms over her chest. "Hey," she said casually.

"Well, if it ain't the Tiny . . . Shark," Happy's gravelly voice was amused as he eyed the pint-sized woman despite the 5" heels she was wearing.

Nico rolled her eyes. "Well at least this time you got _one_ word right."

"I got 'em _both_ right. Despite those stilts you're on, you ain't grown since the last time I saw you, girl," was his terse reply as he stepped directly into her personal space trapping her between his body and her car.

Despite her heels, Nico was forced to crane her neck a little to stare into Happy's eyes. "I guess I'm never gonna train you to use the name my mother gave me, huh?"

Happy slowly shook his head. "I ain't no damn pet monkey, so no, I don't see that shit happening."

"What a wonderful welcome wagon you make," she said slightly miffed. "With that attitude a woman would think you weren't happy to see me."

"'Happy' would be an exaggeration, but since you're here, I guess that shit is all right with me."

Nico smiled archly. "So you _are_ glad to see me then."

"Maybe a little," he said begrudgingly. "Since you're gonna be hanging around for the Club and shit."

" _And shit_ ," she murmured and taking a well-manicured index finger trailed it down his chest and smiled in satisfaction as she noted his pecs tightening through his wife beater in reflex.

_Oh, Mr. Bad Ass is happy I'm here all right._

The idea of spending the next six months or so in Charming definitely had one huge side benefit and Nico was counting down the hours until she got her first pay off, but it seemed that she was going to have to go through the polite niceties associated with the main reason she was in town, as she saw not one but two other familiar patches who were fast approaching her and Happy.

"Hiya doll!" Tig shouted cheerfully. Coming to a stop he clapped a hand on Happy's shoulder to shove him out of the way. "As you can see, somebody made sure to let me know you were coming." He grinned as he stroked his soul patch and goatee and Nico had to admit that the crazy haired biker had cleaned up pretty well with not one spot of grease on him or his work clothes. "I've been waiting for your fine ass," he said cheerfully as he leaned up against the car next to her smiling down at her as he gave her a wide knowing smile.

Getting over his shock at being so summarily dismissed and pushed aside by his brother, Happy finally found his voice, "Tigger have you lost your fuckin' mind?" he growled.

"Yeah he has," Kozik said helpfully as he promptly shoved Tig aside to wedge himself next to Nico. "Obviously he done forgot he's dealing with the Tacoma Killah. Hap, why don't you school him on that shit, while I take care of Nico here?" Kozik winked outrageously at Nico, the sun glinting off his spiky hair, making an attractive picture.

"Fucker, please. Get in line," Tig growled. "I was here first."

"No, asshole, _I_ was here first," Happy replied as he got into Tig's face. "You two old geezers need to push off and stop acting like you never seen a broad before. Especially now," he added as nodded towards the man that was heading their way.

"Hey Nico," Jax Teller said cheerfully as he approached the group his eyes full of mirth. "I see the Three Stooges—I mean my brothers—are intent on making you feel right at home."

"Yes, they are certainly making me feel _something_ ," Nico murmured as she eyed all of the men. Reaching out she gratefully shook Jax's hand and grinned as the President pulled her away from her trapped position against her car and stood next to her.

"So how was the trip?" he asked as he looked down on her.

"It was fine. Easy ride, no problems."

"Great." Jax tossed a glance at her small sports car and frowned. "I guess you didn't bring a lot of shit with you."

"Oh don't you worry about that. I have a couple of suitcases in the car, but I'm having the bulk of my stuff sent down once I check out where you've got me put up."

"Speaking of which, let me reach out to my contact. He set aside time this afternoon so that he could show you around a couple of properties to see which suited you best."

"That sounds great."

"Hap, keep an eye on Nico here, while I go grab some shit and make the call."

"No prob."

"And you two," Jax eyed Tig and Kozik, "behave," he ordered before turning around to head back to the Clubhouse.

Tig eyed Kozik. "Is it just me or do you feel like Daddy is upset with us?"

"Nah, you're right, but he's just pissed off at _you_ ," Kozik replied said cheerfully. "I'm the nice, well-mannered biker." He winked again at Nico. "And now that you're going to be in town for a while, I'm sure I'll have ample opportunity to prove that to you."

"Dick head, you can't prove shit," Tig retorted sourly.

Edging herself a little closer to Happy, Nico watched as the two patches continued to bicker with one another. "Are they always like this?" she murmured.

"Yeah. It's my fucking lot in life to deal with these two clowns," he replied. "Yo, Beavis, Butthead! Break this shit up. You heard the Pres. Besides, I got this," as he nodded arrogantly at Nico.

Tig grumbled. "I don't see why. How 'bout we let Nico make the call?" He turned to face her. "Come on doll," he practically whined. "You can't tell me that you prefer baldy or the beach blond here over me?" Placing his multi-ringed fingers on his chest, he managed to preen and smirk, tossing a flirty smile at her. "Don't forget, I'm hung like a bull and I have serious stamina."

As Kozik watched Nico take another small step away from them and putting her closer to Happy, he sighed inwardly with regret. Although it was clear that she was a high class mob lawyer, if Nico was going to get down and dirty with a bad ass biker, neither him nor Tigger were gonna make the cut. Her body language had good as confirmed what the pecking order was especially when she opened her mouth.

"I'm sure that any woman would be glad to spend time with either of you fine gentleman," Nico said regretfully, "but the best way I can help you guys out will in my capacity as a counselor. Better not to mix business with pleasure."

"Well, if you change your mine darlin', my door—and my fly—are always open," Tig replied before turning to Happy. "Sounds like she's turning down all of our offers of comfort, brother. So I guess you don't 'got this'," he said with a smirk before turning away. "C'mon, Kozy. Let's go get a beer."

Turning to follow his brother as he headed towards the Clubhouse, Kozik turned back to look at Happy and grinned as he observed the SAA's tough demeanor and his surprisingly protective attitude as Happy looked down at Nico, his black eyes glittering.

_No matter what Nico may be thinking, if there is one thing I know it's my brother, and if Hap wants to hit her shit, I don't think there's a damn thing she can do to stop it._

* * *

Nico carefully followed Jax as he wove his way through Charming's small downtown business district until they reached the town's residential area. The homes were neat and quaint—typical middle-class homes in the classic Americana style typical of houses designed 50 to 60 years ago.

Finally turning down another street, Nico watched as Jax parked in front of a small but attractive one-story house. Parking at the curb as another car already sat in the driveway in front of the garage, Nico got out of her car and watched as a man in a dark blue suit exited the vehicle to shake hands with Jax. Quickly surmising that this must be the real estate developer Jax had told her about, Nico made her way up the walkway and confirmed it as she got a visual to match her research.

About Jax's height and a little stocky, the man had a full head of hair the color of steel wool that was swept back off a prominent forehead and a craggy face.

Nico waited patiently as Jax made quick work of the introductions. "Jacob, I'd like you to meet Nico Torelli. Nico, this is Charming's Mayor, Jacob Hale Jr. and the town's resident real estate developer."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Torelli," Jacob said graciously as he shook her hand. "Welcome to Charming."

"Thank you." Nico allowed her gaze to examine the small property, checking out the attached garage that was currently blocked by the mayor's car and the large windows off from the front door that faced the street. Surrounded with attractive trees and bushes on both sides, the small property was afforded some privacy from the houses on either side. "This looks interesting."

"Yes, it is. I know that Jax said that you were going to be in town for a few months so you weren't looking for something permanent, but I thought that you would probably prefer staying in a private residence as opposed to a one bedroom or studio apartment above a store front."

Nico smiled. "You thought correctly. I'm pretty used to living on my own and I like my privacy."

"Excellent. So why don't we take a look?" He gestured as he pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and made quick work of opening the door.

Walking in behind him, Nico quickly surveyed the small living room. Fully furnished, the furniture seemed neat and clean although decades old with a boring floral-patterned material on the sectional couch. Through the small room, Nico spotted a small dining area and a doorway leading off of it, which she presumed was the kitchen and laundry facilities, with another doorway on the opposite side which undoubtedly was where the bedrooms were located.

The real estate developer-slash-mayor made quick work showing the space, pointing out some of its features and amenities, not that there was many before making his way towards two bedrooms, ending up in the master bedroom.

"As you can see the house is fully furnished and has a fully functioning central heating system. There is a hook up for cable which a phone call made by my property manager can turn on the service, although if you need internet access, we will have to have the cable company come in to set up a router and all that," Hale said genially and then dropped the monthly rental fee. "The rent is moderately priced in keeping with its location in town and its amenities. I can tell that this property is probably a little downscale from what you are used to," as he examined the very expensive suit and coat that she wore, "but Charming is a small town, so choices at the moment are somewhat limited. Now I do have some other properties in Modesto and Lodi, but I understood from Jax that you wanted to be as close to town as possible."

"Jacob, I'm thinking that this will be quite satisfactory," Nico replied as she did another turn around. However, her eyes narrowed as she took in Jax. With his hands shoved down into the pockets of his baggy jeans, and his face carved into stone, he looked a little discomfited. "Is everything all right, Jax?" she asked with hesitation and watched as he came to himself.

"Everything is fine. Just some old memories," he shrugged. "I knew the previous owner."

"You know I had forgotten all about that," Hale said conversationally as he turned to Nico. "The owner used to be a doctor at our local hospital before she relocated. If you take the property you will actually be her first tenant since it's never been rented." Looking at Jackson's hardened stare, Jacob quickly changed the conversation. "Why don't I get the paperwork?"

* * *

Jacob Hale tucked the thick wad of cash that Jax had handed him, along with the rental's paperwork into his briefcase glad that the deal had been so easily concluded. He and Ms. Torelli had quickly come terms once she read the short-term lease, made several changes and discussed a variety of her needs regarding the property before concluding the deal as they sat at the dining room table, all the while Jax Teller had kept himself occupied. That is, until he stopped Hale's new tenant from writing a check to cover the first and last months' rent and security. Instead, Teller had plunked down the full amount of the six-month rental without batting an eyelash to the surprise of both himself and the new tenant.

If anyone had told him that he, Jacob Hale, a descendant of the founding son of the town and current Mayor would willingly conduct business with a member of the Sons of Anarchy he would have told them that they needed to get themselves committed to the nearest mental institution.

And yet, here he was, an upstanding but wily businessman doing business with outlaw bikers. For a very long time, the Hale family had been at war with the Sons ever since the MC arrived in Charming over 40 years ago and his father and his grandfather before him had done their best to get rid of the Sons with very minor success. Even his brother Davy had tried in his way during his tenure as the deputy chief of Charming's defunct police department and had only ended up getting killed because of a Sons-related incident—a drive by shooting at the wake of one of its members.

Although grieving, Jacob had shamelessly used that incident among others, including the hostage situation that was instigated by the MC responsible for the drive-by as a springboard to catapult himself to the top of the political food chain in Charming. Jacob had believed that by doing so he could do more for the town—not only in developing it and bringing it into the 21st century, but in getting rid of the outlaw MC that had plagued it for decades and who were solely responsible for keeping the town's economic growth at a virtual standstill.

For a while, things had been quiet in Charming while most of the Club had been in prison, but when on the morning following their release the bodies of four dead Russian mobsters had been discovered on the site of the project that he held most dear to his heart, Jacob knew then that it was going to be an uphill battle for Charming Heights to become a reality now that the Sons were back home.

But when all his efforts had failed to get the go ahead from City Council to develop the property, he had gotten help from the most unlikely source available: Jax Teller. Being approached with a scheme by which his development of the new homes that he wanted would come to fruition, Jacob had had grave suspicions that this was some sort of ploy on behalf of the Club to further sabotage his efforts to develop Charming. Instead, Jax had provided him with the leverage that he had needed in order to get the City Council to unanimously approve the project.

As Jax Teller had put it so succinctly, he was neither in Clay Morrow's corner or in Elliot Oswald's pocket. After carefully considering the motivations of the young biker, Jacob concluded that Teller's near death experience in prison must have scared the younger man straight as it was becoming increasingly evident that the new President of SAMCRO was intent on taking the Club in a very different path than his stepfather and father before him.

Now as he sat with Jax in the living room with his new tenant to discuss another business deal that could have further advantages for his development corporation, Hale was becoming more convinced that Jax was on a mission that would not only benefit his Club but that would benefit the town and line Jacob's pockets as well.

"So," Nico Torelli drawled, "I understand from Jax that in a few months you will break ground on an extensive development project here in Charming."

"That's right," he replied. "Charming Heights is a brand new community that will sit right on the outskirts of Charming proper. Set on 130 acres of former timberland, the development will bring nearly 200 new homes that are badly needed in this part of NorCal."

"That's very impressive," Nico replied. "I understand that you have all of your financial backing in place?"

"Yes. As for the actual development, Oswald Construction is handling some of the building, and Holand & Brown, an architectural firm out of Stockton is on board. We already have pre-sold a couple dozen homes. Right now we are getting ready to send out requests for proposals for construction materials, landscaping, and vehicle maintenance among others, as well looking to work with an additional construction firm to support Oswald's company."

"Yes, Jax told me that his garage is in line to bid on the contract."

"Although it still has to go through channels, the bid is pretty much a formality. As the sole developer, _I_ make all the decisions regarding the retaining of corporate businesses and Jax has been very helpful in getting this project to this stage. The contract will definitely expand T-M's business for a start."

"Yes, and as the Club's new counsel I look forward to finalizing the sale agreement that you have with Jax for the purchase of the lot next to T-M." Nico smiled at his look of surprise. "That deal, among others, will be some of the issues that I handle for the Club while I'm in town."

"Well I look forward to working with you on finalizing that," Jacob said, "but I understand from Jax that you may have some other interest in Charming Heights."

"That's correct." Nico sat back to eye the man. "I represent my family's interests in Nevada, California and Arizona." Pulling out a folder from her briefcase she handed it to the mayor. "As you can see, we have extensive holdings in a number of well-known and highly regarded businesses in three states, but particularly I'd like to draw your attention to TCS Co. which operates out of Stockton."

"I didn't realize that you were connected with the firm. I'm well aware of TCS. It has a solid reputation for stellar construction work and supplies," he replied, respect clearly evident in his tone.

"I'm glad. We've worked very hard to build that company up and our firm has been recognized for its excellence in the development of large scale projects and corporate facilities, which include the Stockton Galleria Mall and the Harris Brandon Financial Center in Sacramento."

"I am familiar with both projects. I understand that the mall was done on an accelerated time basis and that TCS completed the job under budget and nearly six weeks early."

Nico smiled. "We also have extensive contacts in the purchasing and contracting of construction materials. Jax was good enough to tell me about your project and in investigating your firm I believe that our firm could prove to be a very valuable asset to move your project along to completion."

Folding his hands on top of the dining room table, Jacob briefly collected his thoughts before speaking. "Forgive me as I don't want come across as being rude," he began soberly, "as your firm does have a fine reputation. But I also have some concerns as I understand that the Torelli family has a lot of… _varied interests_ outside of the construction business," he said delicately. "The concern that I have, as well as my investors will have, is how those other business dealings could impact our development."

Leaning back in her chair, Nico met his eyes with a knowing smile. "Rest assured, Jacob, I can tell you that TCS is a very dedicated and completely legitimate business operation that has many contracts that span the Pacific west coast. We have the backing of several local government agencies and we have an excellent record of service and safety. But I am sure that I could provide you with any number of references that would set your mind at ease on that score. I believe that our business will not only provide Charming Heights with what it needs but that there are a number of opportunities for further business development that your firm could benefit from.

"Why don't we set up a meeting next week and we can talk about it a little more? In the meantime I can have the head of my Stockton office send you some details about some of our current jobs that would help you see our abilities."

Jacob hesitated for a moment and then nodded briskly. "Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea," he agreed. After making a definite date and time to set a meet, he stood up to shake hands with Nico. "I'm looking forward to getting that material and to talking with you further." Turning to Jax, he held out a hand which was shaken promptly. "Thanks for the introduction."

"Not a problem," Jax smirked as he held open the door for the business man to exit. "I'm sure we'll be talking soon."

Closing the door behind him, Jax turned around to see Nico smirking, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Well, I think that shit went pretty well, don't you?"

"I think so. Jax, I think this is going to be a very fruitful union."

* * *

After Jax had graciously retrieved Nico's luggage from her car they both returned to Nico's new living room and were sitting comfortably on her sofa.

Kicking off her heels and tucking her legs underneath her, Nico gave her guest an impish grin. "Jax, I want to thank you for going to the trouble of finding me a place to lay my head down for the next few months," she said gratefully. "I certainly didn't expect you to cover the cost of the rental."

"Well it was the least that I can do considering all the work you're going to be doing for the Club pro bono," Jax replied with a smile.

"So," Nico said casually, "I kind of caught a little bit of a vibe from you."

"About what?"

Nico's eyes roved around the living room before focusing on Jax. "About this house. Something Jacob said about the former owner." She grinned as Jax rolled his eyes. "So what. . . got some bad memories, huh? You didn't kill anybody in here did you?" Nico joked.

"Uh, yeah, I did," Jax replied soberly as he watched her eyes widened in shock. "Just kidding," Jax lied with a broad grin. "But admit it, you believed me didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah, I did," she retorted. _And part of me still does._ "You shouldn't pull shit like that."

"Well, seriously, it's no big. The former owner was just somebody who was a part of my past a long time ago. I don't think you'll encounter any ghosts."

Nico would have enjoyed just kicking back and having a relaxed conversation with the outlaw biker, maybe getting the full story on the rental's owner, however, now that the two of them were alone, Nico figured that it was a good time to take the opportunity to have a private, in depth discussion with the SAMCRO President.

Leaning comfortably in the corner of the sofa, Nico eyed the man that for all intent and purpose would be her boss for the next few months. "This move is really important to you, isn't it?" she said gently and watched as he focused his gaze on her. "I don't want to seem prying or to step on any toes here, but I always feel that by knowing the situation fully it helps me to do my job more effectively. I guess I'm wondering what's really at the heart of your motivation to get the Club to go legit after so many decades being outlaw. If you don't want to talk about it, I'll understand, but it would really help me help you and the Club."

For a moment, Jax was quiet. Although the man was very competent at hiding his feelings, Nico could almost see his thought process as he considered his words with care. Finally he spoke.

"I love my Club. Ever since I was 5, wearing a kutte and riding a Harley was all I ever wanted and when I patched in at 18 I never looked back. But as much as I love the Life, as a man who has a family that I love very much and patches who are my brothers in every sense of the word, I've come to the realization that living this life comes at too high a price. The Club has shed blood, has lost brothers, and has had the Feds on our asses trying to break us, while other crews who have tried to take us down and as a result our families have suffered damage that can't ever be repaired.

"For me personally, there are only two outcomes if I keep this shit up—prison or a fuckin' pine box. I've been in prison twice now. I'm not alone in that. Several of my brothers—Happy, Tig, Clay, Bobby—we have two felonies each. Three strikes and we're back inside for 25-to-life. The last time I went in, I nearly lost my life. I can't go back in again to leave my son to be raised without a father and there's no way I want to risk losing the first real relationship that I've ever had with my old lady. The other alternative is ending up in a pine box and that's something I don't want either.

"The Club has lost more money over the last twenty years than we've made, although recently the money that has been coming in has been really, _really_ sweet, but sooner or later, we're going to hit a rough patch again and this time, I'm afraid that we won't survive it or worse, I'm afraid that my old lady and son will be hurt in the process. If I want better for myself and my family, the only way I can see that happening is to get out of this shit once and for all, and if it means I have to sacrifice my life in order for my son to have a future, then I'm willing to do it." Jax's deep blue eyes bored holes into hers, his face resolute. "And I'm not going to let anyone or anything stop me from reaching my goal."

Nico nodded slowly. It was obvious from his impassioned speech that Jax Teller was a man of deep convictions, deadly serious in changing his life for the better. "Change is not easy, so I admire it greatly when I meet a person who sets a goal for himself and then achieves it." Nico smiled ruefully. "You haven't set an easy task for yourself, Jackson."

"I know. That's why your help is a very necessary part of the equation."

"So tell me honestly. What are you going up against here? From our conversations I gather that your officers are firmly in your corner, but I'm guessing you have some opposition in the ranks to this move?"

Jax nodded. "My stepfather and former president. Shit has been a little rocky between us with the announcement that the Charming Heights project was passed by City Council. Clay was violently opposed to Hale's little utopia as it would bring a larger law enforcement presence in Charming and would severely hamper our efforts to operate our business under the radar. He sees my lack of commitment to averting the threat to be a serious lapse in judgment, so our relationship is probably at its lowest point since prior to our going inside."

Several days after returning from the meet with Nico in Reno, Juice had come back from getting his hair touched up at Floyd's with the news of the project's go ahead which spurred an emergency Church session and Clay had been extremely upset, vocalizing his belief that Jax was not doing his job to protect the Club and its interests. Jax managed to use his silver tongue to convince his brothers around the table that with at least six months before Hale would even break ground on the project, there was plenty enough time to figure out a work around to keep out of Sheriff Roosevelt's crosshairs. The meeting had, however, been the perfect time to announce Nico's imminent arrival in Charming. Jax had no doubt that Nico would be able to hold her own when she officially met with his brothers the next day, but even she would be hard pressed to impress the Club's former president.

Rubbing a hand across his brow as he thought about the man who had molded him into the patch that he was today, Jax sighed. "The thing is, I really love the old bastard, but Clay isn't what you would call a progressive man when it comes to the Club. It's been one way— _his way_ —for a great many years and it wasn't easy maneuvering him out from the head of the table. With the gun business bringing in a smooth and steady income over the last eight months, Clay sees no reason to diversify our organization with more legitimate business, even though the handwriting is on the wall that our current deal will be coming to an end soon. It's the perfect time for us to transition out of guns."

"But he's not going to see it that way," Nico concluded.

"And there may be a few others. I believe that most of SAMCRO will side with me, but there are the other charters to consider. A number of them have made money from running merch too, but not as lucratively as SAMCRO has. They've also suffered their share of losses as well by living the life as outlaws."

"Enough to consider the move out of guns to be a good thing?"

"I believe so." Jax sighed. "In any event, my bringing you to Charming has raised some eyebrows among my crew. Clay definitely smells the blood in the water. So far, the rest of the Club only knows that that I've brought you in to straighten things out with Unser Trucking and to help us redevelop Cara Cara and your role in getting that business on board," he shrugged. "You're being here shouldn't get anyone too twisted as everybody loves pu—porn," he corrected.

Nico chuckled. "You don't have to clean up your language for me Jax. I'm a big girl, and guess what? I have a pussy too." She grinned as he eyed her sheepishly.

"So is this your standard ploy? Treat your clients like a caring big sister who will make all their bad shit go away?"

Nico grinned. "Pretty much. I find it works well, especially when I deliver. And I will deliver, Jax. That's a promise."

Meeting her eyes and seeing the commitment therein, Jax nodded slowly before leveraging himself to his feet. "Well, I better get back to the lot." Standing up, Nico followed him to the door. "Now since I've dragged you out here, it only seems right that I be a fine and upstanding host and invite you to break bread with me and mine—that is, if you don't mind some down home cooking."

"I think that could be right up my alley, as long as I don't have to do any cooking. That's too much like being at my mother's."

Jax grinned. "Let me guess . . . your Mom's a real ball buster, huh?"

"You have absolutely no idea."

"Sounds like you're my sister from another mister," Jax chuckled. "Well you keep Sunday afternoon free. I guarantee you'll have a good time. The Club hangs out at my Mom's house for a big do every so often. It's the one family tradition of the Sons of Anarchy that I have no intention of breaking."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Now, I figured you'd need a couple of items so I asked my old lady to stock up on some provisions for your kitchen until you can find time to get in what you need, just some bread, milk and shit. I'll have one of my prospects bring it over in a couple of hours. Give you a little time to unwind and settle in."

"That was so thoughtful of you both. Jax, please thank her for me. You're a true gentleman. You think of everything."

"I try, but don't let that shit get around. Don't want people thinking I'm soft. I've a rep to protect." Jax ambled down the walk before turning around. "I'll stop by in the morning around 10 so I can take you over to Unser's and introduce you to Wayne and the rest of the team. We'll sit down with the Club at Church in the evening."

"Church, huh?" Nico queried with a wry smile. "Sounds interesting."

"It definitely will be," he replied with a grin.

* * *

Finally alone in her place of temporary residence for the next six months, Nico placed a hand on her hip as she carefully surveyed her new bedroom.

"Damn," Nico chuckled aloud. "I have to say Jacob Hale is right. I have sure come down in the world. This is not the Penthouse at the Stockton Hilton."

Nico had never considered herself to be a snob, but she had to wonder as she checked out her new surroundings if her mother had rubbed off on her a little more than she had believed possible.

Rosanna Torelli would have taken one look at the façade of the small house in the obviously middle-class neighborhood and turned her back on it with an audible sniff of contempt and not have even allowed her well-shod feet to cross the threshold, so technically speaking, Nico figured that she wasn't nearly as snobbish as she stood surveying the master bedroom.

The only thing that the bedroom had going for it was that it had space large enough for the king size bed that would arrive with the rest of her belongings tomorrow. The Syndicate owned a moving company that did extensive business in Reno and Nico had put in a call to its manager last week to make arrangements to ship down her things at a moment's notice. The small double bed which she had tested out after Jax and Jacob Hale had left would do until the movers arrived Saturday afternoon at which time she would have the movers relocate it to the garage in favor of the brand new California king bed that had fallen off a truck of one of the jobs Dom's crew had recently pulled off in Santa Monica.

Nico walked over again to examine the master bedroom's lone closet. It was barely non-existent, but fortunately the second bedroom had another one she could make use of. The only upswing to the master bedroom was that it did have an en suite bathroom, although it was extremely small.

_Shit, my bathroom at home would make four of this one_ , Nico thought with a snicker and a little longing as she eyed the small and inadequate tub. _God, I am_ _so_ _spoiled._

Walking back into the room Nico eyed it speculatively. It _was_ plain. It didn't seem like the previous owner had put any effort into trying to make the room into an attractive rental. She was starting to wonder if maybe she would have been better off trekking back and forth from Stockton as opposed to staying in Charming. However, as Happy's tall and muscular form crept into her mind's eye, Nico realized that there were definite benefits to staying close to Ground Zero.

_Besides, hanging out in California to fix the Club and banging the outlaw wasn't the only reason I decided to come to Charming._

With her uncle now running the family as Acting Boss, Jimmy's primary goal was to train her brother to take over as head of the family. Nico realized that the best place that she could be was as far away from her brother as possible. Dom needed to come into his own. It was time, in fact long overdue for him to take his place as head of the family. Rocco should have never had been a consideration and Gianni Torelli had only done so because his son had stubbornly refused to get involved with the family business.

Dom had a lot of ideas about how the family should go, but he resented that to some large extent, he would simply be carrying on someone else's legacy. He wanted to create something of his own, which was why he had formed his own crew outside of the organization—to prove to himself he could do it on his own and at the same time fueling his love for racing cars. Now in order for him to grow, Nico knew that he needed to be on his own without her as a safety net.

" _It's best that I'm in Charming, Zio. It will force Dom to not rely on me, but to immerse himself into the business. The next four or five months will hopefully be enough to get him fully up to speed and at the same time give you the opportunity to weed out the rest of Rocco's conspirators, hopefully without too much fall out."_

" _Cara, you're right about your brother, but I still don't like you in Charming, unprotected."_

" _You wouldn't be saying this to me if I was Dom. I'm not unprotected, Z_ _í_ _o. It's not like trouble is going to come looking for me. Besides, I need a break—from the family, from Mama. Doing a little corporate work for the Sons is exactly what I need."_

Fortunately, she had her father's support, but her uncle still didn't like her being in Charming alone, though, and had given her a parting gift with strict orders to always keep it on her person.

Having placed the smallest piece of her designer luggage on the foot of the bed, Nico unzipped the lid and after removing several articles of clothing, pulled out a small black leather case. Sitting on the bed, she flipped it open and bit her bottom lip as she stared at the semi-automatic weapon that was nestled in the box's felt interior.

_What the hell am I supposed to do with this shit?_ she thought dismally. Nico picked up the gun, a Glock, if she recalled what her uncle said. It was very heavy and a little menacing. Placing it on the bed, she pulled out the box of bullets and checked to see that the safety was on before loading a clip into the gun. The gun was even heavier now. Holding the gun away from her, Nico tried to imagine herself blowing a hole into flesh and just couldn't.

_Damn, I never thought that I was a chicken, but this shit really isn't my thing. I'm a lover, not a fighter._

She had a number of self-defense courses under her belt, knew how to throw a few punches in order to defend herself, along with a couple dirty tricks, but using a gun was something that she was pretty sure wasn't in her wheelhouse, having fired a gun only two times in her life, both times in the company of her father at a gun range. She probably would have been a more proficient shot had not her mother intervened, putting her foot down that learning to be a crack shot was not something a good and dutiful Italian daughter needed to know and her father had subsequently caved to his wife's nagging.

To her mind, Nico felt that carrying around a weapon didn't seem necessary. After all, Charming was a pretty sleepy little town. True, the Sons may have had a mishap or two in the town over the last few years, but she couldn't really see any of that visiting her as the Club's interim lawyer.

So picking up the gun and the box of bullets, Nico opened the drawer of the nightstand and stuffed them both inside. If she needed it, it would be there.

But she didn't believe she would.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Friday, April 1, 2011** _

_Charming is not a bad looking town_ , Nico thought with some surprise as she drove her sports car effortlessly through its streets, having no problem keeping up with Jax Teller.

The weather was cool and crisp and as Nico allowed her eyes to wander as she drove, she took in the streets lined with trees starting to bud and the winter torn grass starting its slow return to its rich, lush green color setting a nice frame for the variety of small homes and businesses that streaked by.

Charming was quite different from the hustle and bustle that was downtown Reno, its constant noise and masses of tourists a startling contrast to Charming's quiet streets with a scarcity of people who, so far, seemed to be genuinely nice and welcoming, if several of the neighbors she met outside her temporary home were anything to go by.

Nico had a pretty good night's sleep in the strange bed, all things considered and at least the shower in the small bathroom was hot and powerful. She had made quick work of getting ready for the day's events and had enjoyed the provisions that Jax's old lady had sent over, making herself a quick meal of scrambled eggs with toast, juice and coffee before grabbing her briefcase and heading for the door, right on time as Jax pulled up to the house.

Nico had spent quite some time the night before reviewing her notes and thinking about the conversation the two of them had that afternoon. It was becoming very clear to her that the outlaw biker was on a mission, the agenda of which was very close to his heart, and it was that knowledge that tugged on her heartstrings a little and she found herself wanting to help him fulfill his goals. It was obvious to her that Jackson Teller had a deep love for his Club and after considering all that she had been able to discover about the Club's troubles over the last couple of years, it was no wonder that the outlaw had had enough.

The only problem she had was in knowing that while she was doing everything she could to assist Jax with helping his club to go legit, her own brother was now deeply immersing himself into becoming the Syndicate's next Godfather.

As much as Nico loved her family, she had no illusions about the life that her father had chosen and how those choices had impacted their entire family. Nico wasn't a hypocrite. She knew that a good portion of her high living lifestyle she had was due to the criminal enterprises of the Syndicate and knew that the situation was unlikely to ever change. She had come to accept it, although she was doing her best to give her son every opportunity possible so that when he came of age he could make the choice for himself to either take his place in his grandfather's criminal enterprise or to live a life outside of the Syndicate. It was the prime reason why she had pushed for Tonio to go to boarding school away from the family.

 _Unlike Dom, my son will get to choose the life he wants for himself_ , Nico promised herself. She was doing all she could to focus the family on its legitimate business holdings and she was proud of her accomplishments on both sides of the law to keep her family protected, but trying to distance the Syndicate away from its illegal business dealings would be like trying to stop a bursting Hoover Dam with her pinky.

So if Nico could render some small assistance to Jax Teller to help him and his brothers make the transition away from the outlaw life of violence, she would feel a measure of peace about the life she had chosen which was to support her own family at all costs.

Blinking rapidly to stop a sudden swell of tears, Nico ordered herself to focus as Jax pulled up to a large lot that was just outside of Charming proper. Surrounded by a corrugated steel fence, Nico noted the large green and white sign that proclaimed the establishment as Unser Trucking.

Driving past the open gate behind Jax, Nico straightened her shoulders.

_Okay, girl. It's time to get to work._

* * *

Pulling her car in a spot next to an old, but well-kept beige Cadillac and a couple of bikes in front of the lot's building, Nico stepped out of her car, the breeze causing her hair to whip about her head as she took in her surroundings.

The building was a ranch style, brown with a green trim with a large porch on which sat a couple of clean although worn patio chairs. Unser Trucking looked more like a family home than a business office. Along the left side of the house was the entranceway to what Nico assumed was extended lot which held the fleet of UT's trucks. Turning behind her she observed the one other vehicle of sorts on the lot, a large gray Airstream, with a green and white pickup and a very sporty looking motorcycle painted in red and white.

Raising her eyebrow a little, Nico turned around as Jax walked towards her. Hearing the door of the building open, Nico turned and watched as several people poured out of the building.

The first of which was a familiar spiky haired patch and Nico smirked as Kozik, with a slight hitch in his step, made his way down the porch steps with his hand outstretched.

"Hey, Nico," he said with a grin. "You settled into your new digs?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Jax has taken real good care of me."

"The boss is like that," Kozik grinned. "You're looking really good this morning."

 _What is it about bikers_? Nico thought with a smile. _Just can't wait to roll up on a woman. He comes across as a little too sweet to be a biker, though._ "You too."

"You already pushing up on the new broad, son?" a gruff voice came from above and looking up, Nico spotted a huge older man standing at the top of the porch steps. "You need to step aside for your betters."

"Put a sock in it old man," Jax said cheerfully as he eyed him. "Try and act like you have some manners and come on and say hello."

The older man shrugged his shoulders. "Why the fuck not?" he replied and making his way down the stairs, he practically loomed over Nico. "Hi there darlin'. I'm Piney Winston."

"Co-founder of the Sons of Anarchy and the VP's father, right?" Nico said cordially with a grin as she held out her hand and it was smothered in his.

"Well, now, I like a smart woman." Piney looked over at Jax. "Where'd you find this one boy?"

"Her name is Nico Torelli, Piney. Besides being Jimmy Cacuzza's niece, she's also the legal counsel for the Torelli family. Remember?" Jax replied. "You really need to stop drinking before 9:00. It's really fuckin' up your brain."

"My bad darlin',' Piney grinned and flashed a pair of wicked blue eyes at her. "Besides, I can't help it if I have a fine appreciation for a good looking woman."

"Well I guess I can't be made with you."

"Stop hogging Nico up, old man," Jax said as he motioned to the two individuals standing next to him. "Now Kozik you know. Let me introduce you to Opie's old lady, Lyla Winston."

Nico smiled and held out a hand to accept the hand that was offered. Wavy blonde hair framed a heart shaped face with green eyes. Slim and attractive wearing a wrap dress that framed her assets nicely, the woman gave her a warm smile. "It's really nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Ope."

"All of it good, I can only hope," Nico smiled.

"And finally this is the man whose name is on the door and our business partner, Wayne Unser."

The gentleman was balding, slim and with her 5" heels Nico looked directly into his brown eyes that seemed surprisingly clear. Nico was well aware that the man had been diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer several years ago and that it was noteworthy that he was still alive.

"Nice to meet you," Wayne said cheerfully.

"Same here," she replied, warmly shaking his hand. "I understand that you've been in operation for over twenty years."

"That's right. With my new partnership with the Club, we've made a number of changes over the last few months," the former police chief said, "but Jax has told us that you might be able to help us with a few housekeeping issues for us."

"That's the plan. I also have some ideas on how to increase your business." Nico grinned as Wayne's smile widened in appreciation.

Nico turned to address Jax. "I have a number of contacts that—once we get everything up to specs on the corporate side—I can introduce Unser Trucking to that might open the opportunity to generate some additional business."

"Well, why don't we go inside and Kozik and Wayne can give you the tour, show you a place where you can get set up and then you can get to work?" Jax said and putting his hand on the small of Nico's back, gestured her up the stairs.

* * *

The interior of Unser Trucking consisted of a former living room that had been turned into a reception area. Clean, but furnished sparsely, it consisted of a large oak desk with a telephone, computer and printer, and its surface was littered with a variety of files. Directly opposite was a couple of sofas, chairs, and old coffee table and several floor lamps. An attempt had been made to make it attractive with the addition of several hanging plants and a floral centerpiece.

"This here is Lyla's domain," Kozik said as he walked the group through. "We really don't have a lot of clients stopping by, so the seating area doubles as a lounge for our truckers needing a place to relax for an hour or two before hitting the road."

Walking up a hallway that took the group to the back of the house, Kozik quickly identified a bathroom, a small kitchen, and three other rooms—an office-slash-file room with a couple of desks where Kozik and Piney worked out of, a conference room containing a large round table with several chairs and finally a storage room.

"We got a couple of prospects to clean this out and set it up for you," Kozik gestured to Nico. "Juice hooked up this laptop and printer for you," pointing to the lone desk in the room. "You got internet access and Wi-Fi and if you need anything we can get a couple of the prospects to pick up whatever you need."

Nico surveyed the room. It definitely was the bare basics, but at least the desk looked sturdy and the chair comfortable.

"This is fine," she replied. Taking off her coat, Nico hung it up on the hanger that was on a hook on the back of the door and tugged down the jacket of her pantsuit over her hips before grabbing her briefcase. Overall, the house was adequate for its purpose, but Nico could see that in addition to giving the business a tune up that the office could use a good facelift as well.

 _But that's a problem for another day_ , she decided as she turned to face the group.

"All right. Let's make use of that conference room of yours," she said confidently.

Sitting down at the table, Nico watched as Lyla returned from the kitchen with a carafe of coffee and after serving everyone, the pretty blonde sat down with a tablet, a yellow legal pad and pens ready and waiting to get down to business, which Nico definitely approved.

Taking the lead, Nico made eye contact with each party as she spoke. "I'm glad to be here to assist Unser Trucking with its current situation, but this is going to definitely be a group effort. I've got a lot of questions and I'm going to be relying heavily on all of you for answers. And I'm going to need access to all of your files for the last 10 years so that I can properly assess what Unser Trucking needs to help pull it into the 21st century." Nico turned to Kozik. "Has Scott Rosen sent over all of the files I requested?"

"Yeah, we got about ten boxes of shit—stuff to do with the Club partnering up with Unser and fronting the money to upgrade shit around here." Kozik paused. "I kinda got the feeling that he didn't seem too happy to be giving this shit up."

Nico smirked. "Well, that's not surprising considering the piss poor job he did of covering up where the money came from to finance the influx of cash that UT received. That's one of the messes that I'm going to be responsible for cleaning up, among others."

"That's a pretty big accusation, saying Rosen dropped the ball. You sure about that darlin'?" Piney asked from across the table.

"Damn sure," she said. "If I didn't know better, I would have thought he wanted to cause some trouble down the road for you, but that really doesn't make a lot of sense, so I can only assume that this was an extreme oversight on the part of one of his associates, at least for the time being." Noticing the glint of something almost indefinable in Jax Teller's eyes, Nico had a feeling that while she might be in the dark, there was a possibility that Jax was not. Noting the fact that he didn't address or rebut the possibility, Nico decided to table her concerns for the moment until she could speak to him alone. Instead, she turned her focus back to the group.

"Let's get to work, shall we?"

* * *

Thanking T-M's last satisfied client for their business and escorting them to the door, Gemma Teller-Morrow reached for the pack of cigarettes on her desk and lit up with a sigh of relief.

"It's about fuckin' time I've had a break," she muttered as she deeply drew on her cigarette and sat back in her chair blowing out a stream of smoke.

Fridays were usually one of the busiest days on the lot and this one hadn't been any different than usual. It had been nonstop paperwork, phones and meetings with customers from the moment her ass walked in the door. It had been so busy in fact that Gemma didn't even have time to grab lunch, and while that was certainly great for her waistline, it wasn't helping the food headache that was now making her head throb.

Massaging her forehead with a thumb and forefinger, Gemma's gaze caught on a snapshot that she had pinned to the overflowing cork board above her desk. In it, Jax had his old lady in his arms, with Abel in Marlowe's arms. Pulling it down from the corkboard, Gemma swore at herself.

 _I should have got this shit framed_ , as she rubbed at the pinprick made by the push pin she had used to secure it so that it was at her eye level on the board. _I'm going to get Juice to print me another copy and put it up in the living room. A big one, too._

Stroking the picture, Gemma smiled fondly. It was so good to see her baby in a stable place in his life. Things had been so upside down for Jax for such a long time she had wondered if he would ever find a point in his life where he was steady. The discovery of a manuscript written by John Teller had caused some grave misgivings in Gemma, and after reading the charred remains of the badly burned manuscript, she had been fearful that JT's ramblings and guilt over the choices he had made would send her son on a destiny run and for a long time it seemed that Jax's life was spinning wildly out of control. Between the kidnapping of his son, seeing the pedestal that he had put his father on crash and burn in the wake of Abel's kidnapping and his own near death experience in Stockton, Gemma had been so grateful that Jax had returned to her that she could have easily dealt with any other bullshit that could erupt in their lives.

That is until the Tara situation exploded.

The discovery of Tara's betrayal of her son by aborting his unborn child was something that could have sent Jax right over the edge. It had nearly sent Gemma there her damn self. But unlike JT who had spent months at a time in Belfast screwing his Irish gash and had lost himself in a vat of self-recrimination and pity when their youngest son had slipped into a coma and died, Jax had been made of much stronger stuff. He had pulled himself up and had finally closed the door on the destructive relationship he had with his former old lady and had instead opened the door and his heart to Marlowe Guthrie.

Gemma had to admit that the young, tough woman was probably the best thing that ever happened to her son, even though there were times when she couldn't quite get the former hospital corpsman to see eye-to-eye with how she felt about shit. Their last run in over Abel's daycare situation had pitted them on opposite sides and when Jax had put his foot down, fully supporting his old lady's decision, Gemma had been forced to acquiesce.

On relating the entire situation to her old man, instead of taking her side, Clay had praised Marlowe for standing up to her.

" _Gem, as long as she doesn't interfere in Club business, I have no problem with the Doc. It's pretty obvious that she really loves Abel and is looking out for him. Besides, the last thing Jax needs is to hook up with another weakling for an old lady. Any broad that can stand up to you, ball buster that you are, is probably worth her weight in gold."_

 _He might have a point_ , Gemma had begrudgingly thought at the time. _Jax needs someone who is not only strong, but can stand up to his ass when he needs it._

But lately, there seemed to be a lot of change on the horizon for the Club under her son's leadership and Gemma was starting to wonder if it was all good. According to her old man, it appeared that Jax was hell bent on making some big changes in the Club, something that Clay was not at all happy about. The Club didn't need the two of them to be butting heads again, the last time had nearly resulted in her son going Nomad and it had taken Gemma baring her soul to them both about the devastating rape she had endured at the hands of A.J. Westin and his crew to bring them back together.

Deciding to stamp down her feelings of concern and to bury them for the present, something that was quite alien to how she handled problems which was to face them head on, Gemma got up to head for the Clubhouse.

 _I need some grub_ , the matriarch thought. There should be plenty since she and the croweaters had stocked the fringe for the after church party, the preparations of which were already in full swing with croweaters, hang-arounds and prospects scurrying across the lot to set up the oil can fires and barbecue pit for the festivities.

Heading out the door, Gemma started to make her way to the Clubhouse when she spotted the familiar sight of her son pulling into the lot and came to a sudden stop as a sleek powder blue sports car followed behind him.

Changing direction, Gemma figured she'd better head off at the pass what was probably a new customer, wondering why V-Lin hadn't closed the gate to customer traffic.

* * *

Stepping out of her car and slamming the door shut, Nico eyed the woman who was striding towards her quickly.

 _Now_ _that_ _is a Harley biker mama if there ever was one_ , Nico thought with some admiration.

Pushing over 6', the woman's confidence was evident in every stride she took in the five inch Jimmy Choo boots she was wearing over unbelievably tight black skinny jeans. Riding low on her hips was a black and silver belt cinched over a flowing long sleeved black tunic that fell mid-thigh. With a deep scoop in the neck displaying a fair amount of tattooed and scarred cleavage, the woman had long dark hair that was liberally shot through with platinum highlights. Matching silver jewelry completed the look with dramatic cosmetics. How the woman wasn't cold considering that the sun was already starting to dip low in the sky and along with that the cool spring air was decidedly windy was a little amazing to Nico, but it was obvious that she was on a mission and that she was the target of her interest as soon as she opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry," the woman said as she came to a halt in front of Nico, "but the garage is closed for business. If you need some assistance with your vehicle, you'll have to return tomorrow. We open at nine."

Nico leaned against her car and crossed her arms. "Well that's good to know, but—"

"No buts sweetheart." The woman offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I wish we could help but all of our mechanics have gone home for the evening. If you're desperate for help you could try Dezerian Motors on Ninth Street. They may still be open."

"I'm not looking for service," Nico began. "I'm here with Jax." Her eyes widened as the woman took two steps forward.

"The fuck you say," the woman said ominously. "If you're looking for my son to give you a tune up, bitch you've come to the wrong place."

"Ma," Nico heard Jax call as he jogged up behind the woman to sling an arm around her shoulders. "Chill the fuck out! She's not here for a _tune up_ ," his tone exasperated.

 _Oh isn't she?_ Gemma thought a little derisively as she eyed the fashion plate up and down, taking in the soft white coat over gray trousers, and designer ankle boots and handbag. Only then did she notice the briefcase in her hand.

"No, I'm not. I'm Nico Torelli," Nico held out her hand. "I'm providing a little legal counsel for the Sons."

 _Well shit,_ Gemma thought as she eyed the woman's hand that was extended towards her. Vaguely recalling Tig complaining several months ago about his Pres' cock blocking efforts in connection with a sexy bustier-wearing bitch that had some association with Cacuzza's crew, Gemma's eyebrows nearly rose into her hairline as her eyes travelled up and down at the extremely attractive, but soberly dressed woman.

_This bitch is a lawyer? Jax must be joking._

But it seems that he wasn't. "Ma," Jax said in a tone that brooked no argument, giving her shoulder a hard squeeze.

Casting a side glance at her son and noting his hardened stare, the Club matriarch finally broke, sighing inwardly. "Gemma Teller-Morrow," she said simply and accepted the proffered handshake. She eyed her son. " _I_ wasn't aware that we needed new counsel."

"Probably because _I_ didn't mention it," Jax said a little sternly. "Anything else you want to say?" he said his eyes boring into hers.

Gemma shrugged her shoulders before addressing Nico. "Sorry, my mistake."

"Not a problem." Nico said cordially.

"That's okay Ma, you can make it up on Sunday when Nico comes by for dinner. I'm sure you'll have ample opportunity to get to interrogate—I mean—know her then." Jax watched as his mother's eyebrows furrowed into a slight frown. "Well enough shooting the shit. We need to get to business Nico."

Giving Gemma a respectful nod, Nico turned to follow Jax to the Clubhouse.

 _It would seem that Gemma Teller is an even tougher mother bear than formerly reported._ Nico's sigh was almost inaudible. _If's she's anything like Mama, my ass may be in for a world of trouble._

_This is going to be interesting._

* * *

Following Jax into the Clubhouse, Nico allowed her eyes to check the interior. The main room was packed—the majority of them patched members as they sat at the bar or lounged around the pool table and couches, a number of them heavily engrossed on practically mauling a few of the scantily clad women while they waited patiently for their Club President to appear for "church."

Rolling her eyes at the spectacle of a topless woman currently working the pole on the platform to much encouragement from several onlookers, Nico knew that the Clubhouse wasn't much different from a number of establishments owned and operated by the Syndicate, with the exception that their clubs were much more on the upscale side.

Nico grinned to herself, her anticipation about the upcoming church sending a thrill of excitement to her belly. Finding out that tidbit of information had been quite humorous to her way of thinking and yet somehow appropriate considering that the activities of the Club was at the very heart of the Sons' organization and apparently somewhat sacred to this rough and rowdy group of bikers, so taking care of the Club business in the Club's inner sanctum—its chapel—seemed very appropriate. Spotting a familiar figure currently parked on a couch and feeling his blue eyes boring into her out of a craggy face, Nico had a pretty good idea that there would be more than a few patches who wouldn't be too happy at her being a witness to such a private session.

 _It looks like I was right on that score_ , Nico thought as the various discussions quieted down as soon as Jax spoke.

"Brothers, I think it's time we get down to business," Jax said as he headed towards the bar where Tig-having slapped his hand on the ass of one of the Club women, dismissing her-was now waiting with an open cigar box in his hands.

Nico watched as Jax dropped his prepay into the cigar box and motioned her to come forward. Without commenting, Nico dug her phone out of the pocket of her coat and followed suit, and with Jax placing his hand on the small of her back, allowed herself to be guided into the Club's "Member's Only" inner sanctum.

The room was quite attractive, very masculine in its furnishings and could have been mistaken for a boardroom in any corporate company, if one could dismiss the colorful and terrifying Reaper carved and rather magnificently displayed into a redwood table and the similarly themed SAMCRO memorabilia that decorated its walls.

Directed to a folding chair that was placed to the right of Jax, Nico sat down and found that she was sitting caddy cornered next to Happy.

 _Not quite "at the table,"_ Nico thought with amusement, _but definitely a huge concession to what was probably a very strongly entrenched idea of no women in the most holy of male sanctuaries._

As the other members filed in and took their seats, Nico watched as Tig closed the door behind them and then pulling out a small device from his kutte carefully scanned the room before pronouncing it "All clear," before taking his own seat.

 _These bikers aren't playing around_ , Nico smiled with satisfaction. _My research is definitely on point._ _Just because they live in the sticks doesn't mean they aren't a bunch of savvy sons of bitches_.

Jax picked up the gavel that sat beside him and slammed it down and called the meeting to order.

"I'm sure you all remember Nico Torelli from her last visit in Charming a few months back," Jax started and was quickly interrupted.

"Oh, I remember her quite well," Clay said somewhat sardonically as he rolled one of his favorite cigars between his thick fingers from his vantage at the other end of the table. Turning to face Nico, Clay's smile stretched across his face but was not at all reflected in his eyes as he addressed her. "We were happy to have settled our shit with your brother and to help out the Syndicate out of its problems. Out of appreciation for my long-standing relationship with your uncle, _my_ Club—"

" _Our_ _Club_ ," Jax said evenly, his nostrils flaring slightly.

" _Our Club_ ," Clay acquiesced, "went the extra mile to help you out with your little housekeeping issue and I'm glad we could do that shit, but to be frank, I ain't too comfortable with having an _outsider and a woman_ sitting at this table. No offense to you, but I'm not exactly sure why you're here. I mean with you sitting here at the table, are we gonna starting patching in broads next?"

Bristling with anger, Jax opened his mouth and was again beaten to the punch, but this time by their visitor.

"First off, Mr. Morrow, I think it's quite obvious to everyone here that I am 'not at the table'," Nico said wryly but with respect as she held up her hands to indicate her position in one of the chairs that had been appropriated from the main room. "I have no doubt as to what my place is here and I have absolutely no interest in getting a patch. Personally, I don't think I could carry off wearing a kutte," she smiled wryly.

"Oh, I don't know about that shit," Tig grinned salaciously, "especially if you were butt naked and working the pole out front. I'd think you'd look mighty fine." He winked at a spatter of muffled laughter emanated around the table.

Reaching over, Chibs smacked the back of Tig's head. "Shut it, brutha. She ain't a pass-around. Show some fuckin' manners."

Giving Chibs a grateful smile, Nico replied "I guess I should accept a dubious compliment when I get it and say…thanks?" As laughter increased, Nico waited for it to die down before addressing those around the table. "But ultimately, the only reason your President has so graciously asked me here was in no way to offend his brothers but in order to offer my services to help the Club."

"And what kind of help would that be?" Juice asked with no little amount of curiosity. "No disrespect intended, but the Sons have always been able to handle our own shit."

"Exactly what I'm saying," Clay agreed as he pointed a cigar at his stepson. "I've had a long and profitable relationship with your uncle, and we certainly will continue to do so, but our shit and the way we earn it is exactly that—no one else's concern, which begs me to understand why the Pres would bring an outsider here, no matter how beautiful," Clay smirked, "although my son here tends to let his emotions get in the way."

Gritting his teeth, Jax took a deep breath and giving a quick thought to his old lady, felt a spirit of peace descend on him and quickly set about taking control of the destructive narrative that Clay was trying to spin. "Nico isn't here to talk about our _other business._ As theSyndicate's counsel handling all of their legitimate business matters, I thought that Nico would be ideally placed to help us with several ongoing issues we're having with Unser Trucking and re-establishing Cara Cara. And after I've seen what she has already done for this Club, I think that having her on our side as our counsel in these matters will benefit us greatly."

"Just what has she done for the Club," Clay asked irritably, "besides pay us for Happy's services, which I will admit was a nice piece of change."

"One of the reasons Nico is here with us today has to do with this," Jax said as he pulled out an envelope and tossed it on the table.

"What is it?" Bobby asked.

"It's a check for $350,000," Jax smirked. "Our insurance company has reversed its denial of our claim on the warehouse that we lost when it burned down to the fuckin' ground two years ago."

As those around the table murmured with surprise—some with jubilation and others with suspicion—Clay's voice rose above them all. "Are you kidding me?" he said with disbelief. "How is that even possible? That shit got killed when they denied the arson claim because Chucky was felon and an unreliable witness."

For the first time since the meeting began, Happy entered into the conversation. "Ti—Nico made it possible," he said confidently. "She used her contacts to get shit turned around for us so that the Club could recoup its losses, something that Rosen and Lowen weren't able to do."

"That's an awesome job," Chibs said genially, his grin stretching widely the scars on his face. "For Hap to talk ya up, that means something too. He's a cheap bastard, ya know."

Nico chuckled. "Someone might have mentioned that to me."

"Well, it seems Jimmy's niece has a little pull," Clay said as he eyed her speculatively as he rolled his cigar between his fingers. "I guess I'll have to thank Jimmy personally for the use of his Girl Friday."

"I prefer the term 'Shark'," Nico smiled tightly. "After all, I got the degree for a reason."

"Well, we owe a lot of thanks to Nico for taking the initiative to help us out. She wanted to show her appreciation for us coming helping out with the Syndicate's housekeeping problem," Jax said. "Now all that matters is what to do with the new funds."

"I got a couple of good ideas," Tig said gleefully. "And they all include some big payouts to everybody around this fuckin' table."

"Well, we could go that route, but I'm proposing that we use this to reinvest in the Cara Cara reboot—an investment that will be the gift that keeps on giving."

"I thought that was basically dead in the water since before you guys got out of the joint," Miles said skeptically. "Especially since Rosen hasn't been able to get shit moving in Stockton."

"Miles is right," Clay said adamantly. "That business died a long time ago. It was a lot of fucking trouble when it was around too. Why should we start up that shit again?"

"Actually I can think of a million reasons why," Tig sighed as he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head with a wolfish grin, "and they all have to do with pussy."

"Stop thinking with your dick," Clay began.

"Why? Do I have to? You know, me and my dick, we go way back. It's kind of hard not to think without my best friend. He helps me make lots of decisions," Tig said roguishly while his brothers howled with laughter.

"Miles may have a slight point," Bobby counseled before he addressed Nico, "but personally, I loved the business. It was a solid money maker and has the potential to make us some legit bank, but there are a lot of obstacles. Rosen kept running into a lot of roadblocks, the biggest of which is getting the business end squared away with Big Otto, with him being on the Row and inaccessible, besides the fact that we'd have to secure a new studio, rebuild our roster of talent and get solid directors. If _he_ couldn't handle this shit, what are you proposing to do to get things turned around?"

"Good question," Nico replied nodding approvingly. "Here's what I have in mind," and for the next few minutes the Club was silent as she outlined her plan of strategy.

"And you think you can pull that shit off?" Clay said quietly, his tone grim.

"I know I can," Nico said respectfully. "When it comes to business—legitimate or dirty—there's only one standard that can make or break a deal: It's not what you know, it's who you know, and in this case," she grinned, "I know a whole lot of fuckin' people. I know where the bodies are buried, and I know how to squeeze somebody's balls until I get what I want. Nobody likes it when somebody's pulling on their short and curlies and although I may be just a _broad_ , I have no problem getting in the gutter if I have to for the Club."

"Well that sounds all well and good counselor," Clay eyed the small woman warily, "but what about our current counsel? We have invested a lot of time and trust in Scott Rosen. We're supposed to just dump his ass for you?"

"I would never advise a prospective client to dump a longtime business associate in favor of my services by running down his abilities," Nico replied. "Scott Rosen is well known throughout NorCal as a clearly capable criminal attorney and I would never seek to replace him in that regard. I find that it's much better to demonstrate to a new client how my skills can work for him effectively." Nico reached out and tapped the envelope that lay on the Redwood table to emphasize her point. "As a corporate attorney who specializes in the legitimate world of business, I have developed a talent for finding interesting solutions for complex situations, and for a group of hard working outlaws like yourselves who live your lives on the fringes of society, I believe can help the Club with its problems." Nico took a moment to make eye contact with every man around the table. "I am extremely good at what I can do and I don't make promises that I can't deliver."

Sitting back, Happy was hard pressed not to grin as he took in Nico's determined expression. She was in full corporate mode and yet had addressed the former president with a measure of respect while forcefully making her point. It was apparent from the facial expressions of his brothers that they were seriously taking in what she said and were impressed.

"And what exactly do _you_ get out of helping us out—a piece of the action?" Clay said critically.

"I'm taking care of that, brother," Jax interjected.

"Oh, I'm _sure_ you are brother," Clay shot back with a knowing grin. "I'm sure there are _all kinds of ways_ that Nico here could get paid off."

Refusing to respond to Clay's implied sexual innuendo, Jax continued. "The Club's treasury won't have to pay one thin dime out of pocket for Nico's fee for taking care of U-T or getting Cara Cara back on board. She will be sticking around for quite a while to get us situated."

"At the Clubhouse?" Juice inquired.

"No asshole," Piney replied. "Jax got her set up in her own digs. She's renting Tara's old place, right?" He directed at Jax.

"That's right."

"Well, I for one think it's a good idea," Kozik said as he gazed at his Pres. "Unser's business has been really building up and getting it up to full speed and locking down all the corporate shit makes really good sense. It's a good legitimate front to show all those nice law enforcement agencies we love to hate that the Sons are on the straight and narrow, being good little ex-cons."

"Not only that, bruthas, but as far as the porn business goes, I'm sure you may recall I have a very good eye for spotting potential talent," Chibs grinned wickedly. "Since Kozik is in charge of running shite at Unser's, I have no problem at all volunteering my services as a producer."

"Fuck that man," Tig retorted, "You ain't stepping over me, man. Everybody knows that I got the right temperament for that type of shit, especially thinking up twisted plots and shit." He leaned back in his chair and smiled almost beatifically.

"Nobody wants to watch cold packing porn, Tigger, so you can bury that shit and I mean literally," Opie said with a smirk as his brothers burst with laughter.

As the ribald humor and antics continued to escalate, Nico leaned back in her chair and gave Jax the eye and watched his imperceptible nod of satisfaction. It would seem that Nico's introduction as the Club's new corporate counsel had managed to go over and be accepted in general.

Peeping to her right, Nico found a pair of dark eyes staring at her and gulped as she felt a tightening in her chest and thighs at the barely masked heated gaze of the SAA.

With the Club's blessing it would seem that Nico's stay in Charming was practically a done deal. As Jax brought this part of the meeting to a close, Nico, taking her cue, rose to leave the Club to finish the rest of their session—which probably would include a more frank discussion of her role in Charming now that she had been dismissed, as well as some deep discussion on all of the Club's gun running efforts.

Walking sedately out of the Clubhouse, Nico quickly made her way through the throng of hang-arounds who were waiting for the party to get started and headed to her car with a little pep in her step.

_I got to get ready as I'm sure as shit that I'm going to have my own special welcome to Charming party tonight._

_Yippee!_


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Sunday, April 3, 2011** _

Standing in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, Nico carefully observed her reflection and gave a shop nod of approval.

"Pretty damn good if I do say so myself." Turning around to take a look at the rear view, she smirked at the picture her ass made in the designer skinny jeans as they clung to her curvy form. A black belt emphasized her narrow waist which she was sure would draw a pair of black as pitch eyes right to her girls. Having vacillated between a pair of black open-toed heels and a pair of sexy black leather booties encrusted with silver embellishments, Nico decided to go with the heals, the five inch heels making her legs look long and lean.

Nico smoothed the soft pink V-neck blouse of silk loving how it draped over her breasts. With silver jewelry accenting her apparel, Nico only had to adorn her fitted, soft as butter black Italian leather jacket to complete the ensemble.

 _I think I should fit in all right. Not too dressy and not too casual_.

In all honesty, Nico had been having second thoughts about accepting Jax Teller's invitation for dinner. After all, her initial meeting with Gemma Teller-Morrow hadn't gone too smoothly. The woman was definitely territorial and she had to admit that as a mother herself she probably wouldn't hesitate for a moment to fuck someone up who was threatening her baby, but after all, the SAMCRO Pres was a grown ass man! She would think that Jax Teller would be able to defend himself from any and all bitches in heat if he was so inclined.

 _Maybe his mama steps up to squash shit because his old lady is too fragile to protect her own shit. Then again, I can't really see Jax with a delicate type of woman._ Nico rolled her eyes at the thought. Figuring that she would get the chance to find out for herself, she dismissed both her and the Club's matriarch from her mind as she tried to focus on the two goals she was set to accomplish for the evening to come.

After being introduced to the Club in the capacity as a fixer, Nico knew that even with the big ass check she had managed to bring to the Club that the jury was still out as to whether its members really believed she would make good on her promises. It was going to take a lot to impress this group of scruffy, hardcore bikers, but Nico remembered something her father ingrained in her.

_Talk is cheap, Cara. Its actions that speak louder than words._

_And Papa is right. I just need to handle my shit is all._

She also, however, had to keep her wits about her with Clay Morrow, who was her first target for the evening. It had been very obvious to her that the older man was seriously exercised at her presence at the Club's little confab. While it was clearly apparent that he had a measure of respect for her uncle, the tough as nails biker apparently drew the line at dishing out the same to the Syndicate's corporate enforcer.

"' _Girl Friday'_ my ass _,"_ Nico muttered as she walked over to the room's lone dresser and picked up her brush to fluff her hair. "I'm a fuckin' Shark," she grumbled as she tucked the brush into her handbag and glared at her image in the mirror. "Obviously it's going to take a while to find a way to convince him that there's more than meets the eye when it comes to me."

After her meeting with the Club, Nico had realized that she needed to make relieving Clay Morrow's fears a top priority. From what she had learned from squeezing her uncle for more Intel and from Jax, the former president was going to be one tough nut to crack, but taking the time to get to know the biker and his strengths and weaknesses would go a long way in assisting Jax with getting the older man on board with some much needed changes, and hopefully tonight she would be able to get an idea of what she had to work with when she cornered Clay.

 _A man with a belly full of good food, fine liquor and a good cigar may be more apt to relax and give me some insightful info as to how he operates_ , Nico thought as she picked up her jacket and bag from her bed and headed towards the dining room. _And hopefully the goodies I've brought will ease the way in._

Putting her things down on the dining table, Nico grinned as she removed the top of a medium-sized black box and lifted the bottle nestled inside. The Glenlivet Archive 21 Whiskey gleamed under the overhead lighting as she held it in her hands.

"Pure perfection," she noted at the beautiful amber color before placing it back in the velvet cushioned box. "Between this and these bad boys," Nico picked up the box of premium Cuban cigars, "this should soften the old buzzard up a bit." Taking the gifts and storing them into one of two gift bags, Nico placed them by the front door. Stretching her arms over her head to get the remaining kinks out from all of her physical efforts from the day before, she surveyed the room. It definitely looked a lot better.

Nico had spent most of her second day in Charming unpacking her belongings that had arrived early that morning. With her newly installed bed, her numerous boxes of clothing and accessories, not to mention some of her favorite kitchen appliances, including half a dozen bottles of wine from her cellar unpacked, she had spent the rest of the day shopping in town and in Stockton for some things to spruce up the décor of her rental home. Taking in the festive pillows, the 1/2 dozen plants and ferns and vases of fresh flowers from the local flower shop in town, Nico smiled. The living room now looked warmer and less impersonal than it had before.

 _If I'm going to be away from my home for 6 months, I need a little bit of atmosphere_.

Fortunately, the house was small. Nico wasn't one for liking housework, which was why she employed a housekeeper at home but with the house being so small, she couldn't justify to herself the need for full time help. She figured that she could handle shit by herself. _Besides, I can just hear Happy's ass if he found out that I had someone here cleaning up after me. Not that it's any business of his anyway seeing as he couldn't be bothered to get his ass over here Friday night._

Corralling the ornery biker was the second of the goals that Nico intended to accomplish that night. As it was, she was unwilling to admit to herself how disappointed she still was that the SAA hadn't seen fit to stop by after the Club's church meeting, but having gotten a bird's eye view of all of the inappropriate pussy that was hanging in the T-M compound as she made her way to her car, Nico was sure that with so much to choose from, Happy couldn't be bothered to leave when he had a full buffet on the menu. He probably hooked up with the first cheap whore he ran into.

"Lucky biatch,"she grumbled.

After waiting for nearly two hours in a brand new La Perla white bikini lingerie set and 6" heels, Nico had been pissed and had even considered sexting his ass a picture to get him to come over to her house, quick, fast and in a fucking hurry. Fortunately for her self-esteem she didn't have his cell number. After all there was no need for her to look like a desperate, needy _and_ horny bitch.

Trying to put aside thoughts of what she was going to do to and with the outlaw biker once she got her hands on him, Nico leaned against one of her new pillows on the couch, lifted a dainty wrist, and noting the time on her watch frowned. It was 4:10 and she wondered where her escort was.

_I should have insisted that I could make my way to party central on my own._

Just as she looked at her watch for a second time, Nico heard the roaring sound of pipes as they drew closer to the house.

"Finally! I guess this prospect is not too bright. If he'd been one of our soldiers, I'd be inclined to put my size 8's right up his ass for keeping me waiting," she grumbled as she made her way to the door.

Muttering obscenities under her breath as the dimwitted prospect had the absolute gall to bang on her door like some knuckle dragger instead of using the doorbell like a civilized person, Nico threw the door and started speaking before it was fully open.

"I don't like being fucking late," Nico retorted angrily with a balled fist on her hip.

And discovered a smirking SAA.

* * *

Leaning against the door frame, Happy grinned down at the extremely irritated woman in front of him.

"Well somebody's got their panties in a bunch." he said, his gravelly tone barely hiding his humor.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she said growled, wrinkling her nose in irritation. _Your ass should have been here two nights ago,_ Nico wanted to growl and only barely kept the words from leaping off her tongue.

"What's it look like? I'm here to take your ass to Gemma's," he replied as he looked at her through mirrored sunglasses.

Happy watched as she leaned against the door frame in imitation of him. "Wow! I guess I would never have thought of you as an errand boy," she said acidly.

Taking a large step forward, Happy got into her personal space and swallowed a grunt of satisfaction as her eyes widened and she nearly took a step backwards. "First off, I ain't nobody's bitch boy. Second, I figured I'd have mercy on your ass. Tigger volunteered to come and get you, which probably would have ended up with your ankles over his shoulders." He grinned. "But if you want me to arrange that shit—"

"No thank you," Nico said hastily and then cursed under her breath when Happy grinned. "I'm all for getting to know your Club, but I draw the line at some shit."

"Good thing too. Don't let the name fool ya. This town is anything but 'charming' and neither are my brothers."

"That sounds like a gross exaggeration to me."

"Stick around long enough and you'll find out for yourself," Happy said gruffly. "Now enough with this jawin'. Let's hit the road."

"Fine. Just let me get my things." Swinging the door wide open, Nico darted inside and quickly put on her jacket, retrieving her handbag and the gift bags before grabbing her car keys.

"What is all that shit?" Happy said, pointing a gloved finger at the bags.

Nico rolled her eyes. "Just a little something for the hosts. You don't show up at somebody's home for dinner empty handed."

Refusing to comment, Happy rolled his eyes and took the bags from her grasp. "Well come on then. And leave your car keys," he hollered behind him as he made his way towards his bike. "You ain't gonna need them."

Nico's eyes widened as she shut and locked the door behind her and then sped up, her stride taking two steps for every one of his. "Why the fuck not?"

"'Cause you're riding with me," Happy said as he shoved the gift bags into one of the saddle bags on his ride. "Unless you're too chicken shit to ride with an outlaw," he jeered.

Quickly swallowing the lump in her throat, Nico tossed back her hair. "Oh puh-lease! I used to drag race in the fuckin' desert at 16," she retorted. "Ain't nothing much than can scare the shit out of me," she boasted.

"Let's find out," he taunted as he handed her his helmet.

Taking it in her hands, Nico rolled it around. "Do I have to wear this shit?"

"What's wrong Tiny? Afraid to mess up that hair of yours?" He said as he put on a pair of bike glasses before straddling his ride.

 _Yes_ , she thought irritably.

"No," she lied and promptly shoved it onto her head.

"Well come on Tiny. I don't have all day."

Glaring at him, Nico stomped over to him, refusing to allow herself to acknowledge how fucking hot he looked perched on his ride, which was just as sexy as he was. Putting her bag across her body and gripping his shoulder, she used the foot rest to climb up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his hard, muscled waist, Nico was hard pressed not to let out a soft moan as the intoxicating scent of leather, cologne, cigarettes and man dominated her nostrils as she pressed herself against his back.

"Uh, Tiny?" Happy said casually.

"What Hap?" she replied almost dreamily.

"You do know that's a bitch seat your ass is perched on right?"

Nico's body shot straight up, bristling with irritation. "So the fuck what?"

"So," he drawled, "for the next 20 minutes, I guess that makes you a bi—"

"DON'T SAY IT!" she screeched.

As he felt a small fist slam into his neck, Happy's shoulders shook with laughter as he revved his engines and without a warning shot out of the driveway with a hot ass woman clinging to him for dear life.

* * *

 _Exhilarating_!

Clinging to Happy's muscled torso as he leaned into curves and raced down straight-aways, Nico had to admit that riding bitch on a motorcycle was a hell of a lot of fun.

Although the late afternoon spring breeze managed to cut through her leather and denim, the body heat that Happy generated—and not just the heat between her thighs—managed to keep Nico warm enough as Happy had apparently decided to give her a scenic tour through Charming.

It seemed that the outlaw wanted to curl her already wavy hair as he gunned the Dyna's engine, taking her through Charming's downtown business district, past the suburbs and out onto the highway. With her hair whipping in the breeze, Nico could feel adrenaline pumping through her veins as Happy sped through NorCal.

Despite the fact that they had to be breaking the speed limit, Nico couldn't say that she was scared shitless. Instead, as she felt the engine's power travel though the bike and her body, Nico wanted to cheer Happy to go even faster. It had been a long time since she had done any type of speed racing, pretty much putting that aside when she gave birth to her son.

In her teens, Nico used to spend time on the drag racing circuit with her brother and his friends whenever she could get the chance and out of the eyesight of her eagle-eyed mother. Dom had been a very precocious 13 when he started racing, first dirt bikes and then cars, his large frame allowing him to easily pass for 16.

With her marriage, subsequent motherhood and trying to finish her education, Nico had shelved her interest in racing, although she never abandoned her love of cars, especially her beloved Porsche which she would tinker with in the garage of her home under Dom's strict supervision, much to the dismay of her then husband. As Tonio grew and became just as interested in cars as his mother and uncle, the three of them would often spend an enjoyable afternoon discussing vintage cars.

Now, having made such a fuss about being late, Nico—swept up in the thrill of the ride—had completely forgotten that they had a planned destination in mind, and as Happy turned back to make his way back into town, Nico was tempted to suggest they just ditch the party. Instead she made the most of their time back to Charming.

Driving through a number of streets lined with attractive, although older homes, Happy finally pulled in front of a beautiful two story home whose driveway was lined with bikes and cars. Nico sighed as Happy pulled into a spot and cut the motor.

"Was that a sigh of relief that you're still breathin' Tiny?"

Dismounting from behind him, she removed the helmet and started to shake out her hair. "No way easy rider. That…was _choice_." Nico grinned as he gave her a barely imperceptible nod of approval.

 _Tiny can hang_ , Happy thought to himself with a grin. Then he decided to yank her chain.

"Yeah, well, you're so short there were a couple of times where I thought I was gonna lose your ass. Good thing you were hanging on tight," he replied as he disembarked.

"Stuff it, Ace," she growled as she handed him the helmet. Pulling out a mirror out of her handbag to quickly check her appearance and noting her flushed and rosy cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes, Nico ran her fingers through her hair a few times and was fairly satisfied that despite her unexpected whirlwind road trip she looked reasonably presentable. Striding forward, Nico make quick work of accessing the gifts from Happy's saddlebag before turning to face him. "Well, let's do this shit," she announced and turning, marched up the walk.

Lingering behind her, Happy grinned as Nico's ass swayed with each step as he followed behind her. With the aroma of a well prepared meal scenting the air, the outlaw smacked his lips.

_Nothing like eating Ma's good cooking to start off the evening and finishing it off with Tiny's ass for dessert._

The smirk on Happy's face was downright lecherous as he walked behind her. Blowing Tiny's ass off last night had definitely been the right move. She was really pissed when she opened the door and he knew why. He'd have bet cold hard cash that the small beauty had fully expected him to swing by her place after Church which was why he had made damn sure to keep his ass on the lot. It was pretty obvious to him that the Italian diva had had plans for his ass prolly thinking that she was running shit.

Having finally one-upped her by being the one to leave her after their last encounter in Reno, Happy had no intention of letting Tiny think she was calling the shots, especially now that she was on his home ground. As it was, he wasn't about to admit that it had been a little hard putting his dick games on hold by not showing up at Tara Knowles' old place considering he knew exactly where it was. But he needed to make sure that Tiny knew without a doubt who was running shit. Mob lawyer she may be, Tiny was in Charming now— _on his turf_. So instead of giving in to his baser instincts, Happy made do with a couple of blow jobs from two of the croweaters, saving up all his pent up sexual frustration for Tiny. It was a good thing that shit had been pretty busy on the lot on Saturday as it helped to keep his mind off her fine ass, but the anticipation for hitting her shit had definitely grown over the course of the day, especially as Tig and Kozik spent a good deal of the time in the garage bay gossiping about her.

With the barely distant memory of having Tiny's small but fine body wrapped around his while she rode bitch on his ride, Happy's smirk was almost feral as he thought about what would be the main event of the evening in his immediate future.

_It's going to be a really good night._

* * *

Before Nico could ring the doorbell, the door suddenly swung open to reveal the Club's matriarch. "You're late," Gemma said as she crossed her arms under her impressive rack which was tucked into a scalloped tee and an over-sized blue flannel shirt. Worn with a pair of jeans, the woman looked incredible.

Nico cocked her head towards her companion. "Blame his ass," she said congenially. "Apparently Hap decided to take the scenic route."

 _Hap? That's pretty damn familiar,_ Gemma thought as she eyed her guest with narrowed eyes.

After Church had been over, Gemma had wasted no time finding out all she could about Nico Torelli. Interrogating Tig and Kozik had been helpful, but it was her old man who had filled her in on Nico's background, specifically the counselor's original introduction to the Club, how the Club had assisted Jimmy Cacuzza's niece with a housekeeping problem and the fact that the Club had retained her services as temporary counselor and that she would be in town for the foreseeable future. What interested her the most was just _how_ forthcoming Clay had been regarding the woman. As much as Gemma felt that she was an unofficial member of the Club, her husband rarely would share in depth Intel on Club business unless absolutely necessary. So it would seem that Clay was not at all pleased at the situation.

Fully intending to support her husband in his feelings, Gemma had her nose put out of joint when Jax had stopped by the following afternoon and had in no uncertain terms demanded her to roll out the red carpet for the counselor. Being forcefully reminded that _he_ was the Club's President and that while he expected her to be loyal to his stepfather, Jax expected her loyalty to the Club to outweigh whatever concerns Clay had, spoke volumes.

Gemma was unsure as to how all of this shit would unfold, but there was one thing she knew from the steely-eyed glare of her son: Jackson was not shitting around this time. So Gemma put on her best smile—a mix of welcome and edge—as she propped herself against her front door.

"Ma, you gonna let us in or what?" Happy asked.

Finally opening the door wide, Gemma smirked. "I guess so," she said mockingly, "since you asked so politely."

Nico watched as Gemma tapped Happy's face lightly with her palm of her hand. Remembering her son's insistence on her being on her best behavior, Gemma gestured, "Come on in. Mi casa is you casa and all that happy shit."

Suddenly spotting the bags by Nico's side, Gemma raised an eyebrow. "Is that for me or am I being presumptuous for asking?"

"Not at all. In fact there's one for you _and_ one for your old man. Just a little token to thank you for your kind hospitality."

"That wasn't necessary, but thanks all the same," Gemma replied a little wary. Taking a peek into the smaller, feminine-looking gift bag from a high end department store, she peeled away the tissue paper and spotted a small bottle of a very pricey perfume that happened to be one of her favorites.

"I hope you don't mind," Nico smiled, "but I noticed your perfume when we first met and thought that this might be something that would fit you."

"Good choice. Thanks." Placing both bags on a table in the foyer, Gemma led the way towards the noise.

Walking through the Morrow's home, Nico nodded with approval. The décor, mostly warm earth tones reminded her a lot of her own color scheme at home and was very attractive although not as nearly ornate as her own home. The furniture, mostly large and oversized looked comfy and was filled with patches and children talking and digging into the snacks that were spread out on a large coffee table.

"Hey, you made it," a voice called out and Nico turned to see Jax Teller as he swaggered over. "I was starting to wonder what happened to you two," he said cocking an eye at his brother enquiringly.

"He was late . . . She wanted a ride." Nico and Happy both answered together.

"Uh, no I didn't," Nico exclaimed as she turned to face Happy. "I was going to drive over. You practically took me hostage."

"Don't exaggerate," Happy said in a hard tone.

"I'm not exaggerating shit," she sputtered. "I—"

"Well lookee here. Trouble in paradise?" Tig said hopefully as he approached the group, throwing an arm around Nico's shoulders. "See Jax. I told you I shoulda been the one to pick her up. I woulda given you a _really_ nice ride, doll."

"Yeah, but would she have been able to walk after, brother?" Kozik said loudly to a roar of laughter.

"Cut it out you two," Jax ordered before dislodging Tig's arm off of Nico's shoulders and pulling her to his side. "Enough of this shit. Look you know all the guys here. Let me introduce you to my old lady." Nodding to Happy he continued, "You might as well come along too Hap."

Following Jax's lead, Nico walked behind him with Happy to the dining room and kitchen area that was directly across from the open living room. The kitchen was bustling with activity as Gemma shouted out commands like a General, the old ladies and several croweaters serving as her minions as they scurried to and from the dining room and children's tables.

Nico watched as Jax walked towards a tall woman who was tossing dressing into what looked like pasta salad in a large bowl. Wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, Nico watched as Jax bent over to warmly kiss the nape of her neck having pushed aside her long wavy caramel colored hair before spinning her around and taking a quick nip at her lips.

 _Cute lips,_ Nico thought, briefly noting their plump outline before they were nearly swallowed whole by the SAMCRO Prez. They went well with the rest of her, a heart shaped face with beautiful gray eyes. Apparently the lips were irresistible to the SAMCRO Prez as he went in for another taste.

"What the fuck is it with you two?" Happy said from behind her as the woman suddenly wrapped her arms around his brother's neck and deepened the kiss. "Can't you save that shit for your bedroom?"

"Oh, don't be such a fuckin' killjoy," Nico admonished. " _They're so cute_. Besides, what's wrong with a little PDA? You act like you aren't a biker."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Happy said irritably completely unaware of the fact that said couple having finally come up for air were now intently listening to their squabbling.

"From what I saw before Church, it looked to me like your brothers had absolutely no problem with PDA's. It was a good thing that Jax called the meeting to order otherwise I thought I was going to see a full blown orgy. Besides, I didn't take you to be a shy guy, Hap," Nico sassed. "But that's okay. I kinda like you keeping shit undercover," she whispered.

Jax cleared his throat loudly. "Maybe I'm not the one who needs to get a room," he said with amusement. Watching as Nico's face turned a delicate shade of pink, the SAMCRO Prez chuckled as he wrapped his arm around his old lady's waist. "Maybe I should just make the introductions, huh?"

"That would be nice," Nico replied as she eyed the woman by his side.

"Nico, this is my old lady, Marlowe Guthrie. Marlowe, this here is Nico Torelli, the Club's new counsel."

Reaching out, Nico shook the hand that was offered, noting its firm grip. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Same here, Counselor," Marlowe replied with a grin. "It's certainly nice for a change to hear another woman other than his mom or myself tear a strip off of old Grumpy Pants here," nodding towards Happy.

"Little girl, you need to check yourself."

" ' _Little girl'?!_ " Nico interrupted with amusement as she eyed Marlowe's long and lean figure. "I think it's pretty obvious that she is nowhere near 'little'. _Now_ I get your shit, killer. You just have some weird obsession with women, calling me 'tiny' and now Marlowe little, when it's obvious that she is anything _but_ that."

"Fuck that! I call you Tiny because your ass is short! And I call Marley 'Little girl' cause—" Happy hesitated.

"Because as my much, _much_ older brother he thinks he can get away with that shit," Marlowe filled in.

"Your brother?!" Nico was perplexed as she looked at them both. "In what universe? You two look nothing alike!"

"Hey, I can't help shit if my Ma picks up stray kids in the hood and takes them in. It's a bad habit of hers," Happy muttered.

"It's also a bad habit of yours of rewriting history, you big ape!" Marlowe sputtered. "Don't pay any attention to his ornery, cranky ass. He's middle-aged. He can't help that shit."

"Oooh, Arlo! You said a bad word," a voice piped up from the region of the floor.

And looking down, Nico saw the bright blue eyes of the cutest little blonde haired tyke she had ever seen in her life clinging to Marlowe's leg.

"Aw, and who is this handsome fella?" Nico crooned as Happy rolled his eyes.

Stooping down to pick the boy up, Marlowe perched him on a cocked hip. "Yes, baby. I said a bad word and we'll talk about that later. Right now, I want you to meet Miss Nico. She's a friend of your daddy's."

Nico watched as Abel turned his attention to her, his bright eyes beaming with interest. "Hello Miss Nico. I'se Abel."

"Well it's nice to meet you Abel."

"Do you have a little boy?" he asked, curiosity making his eyes sparkle with interest.

"I do, but he's not as small as you and not nearly as cute either." Turning to Marlowe, Nico continued. "He's absolutely adorable."

"Yeah, we seem to think so," Clay said as he joined the group.

"Grandpa!" Abel exclaimed and with no urging, eagerly went into his grandfather's arms.

"Mr. Morrow," Nico said congenially. "It's good to see you again. Thank you for the invite."

"Not a problem. Gem's big on doing her thing," the gruff man replied. "Speaking of which," he turned to eye his wife. "Gem, when's the grub gonna be ready? I'm hungry and so is my grandson."

"Right now, so get your butts to the table," was her harried reply.

"I guess that's our cue," Jax said as he raised his voice. "Get to the table people. It's time to eat."

As a mass of persons got up from the living room and headed towards the tables, Marlowe beckoned to Nico. "Come on and sit by me and Lyla. It will be relatively harmless on our end of the table."

"I certainly hope so," Nico replied.

* * *

During dinner, Nico found the atmosphere around the table was congenial and spirited as platters of food and pitchers of beer and various non-alcoholic beverages were passed up and down the long table. Much laughter and good natured ribbing had accompanied the food as the men, women and children conversed with one another.

Despite the fact that her knowledge was a little scarce when it came to the internal relationships of those around the table of adults, Nico quickly recognized the camaraderie and affection amongst the group and although a stranger, she felt oddly comfortable with the crazy and somewhat raunchy crowd, despite the presence of a number of children.

Sitting at the opposite end of the table, Nico was sandwiched in between Marlowe and Lyla. With Jax sitting on Marlowe's left at the end of the table, Happy sitting across from his sister with Opie on his left and across from his wife, the spirits at that end of the table was pretty high as they ate the dinner that had been prepared, the food extremely tasty and Nico wondered if she might gain a pound or two.

As the norm with practically most familial functions, after a while the men and women around the table eventually became engrossed in conversations amongst their own sex and it was a fine opportunity for Nico to learn a little more about two of the younger old ladies of SAMCRO, especially as the two women were definitely polar opposites in a number of respects, one a former hospital corpsman and the other an ex-porn star.

After taking her final bite of the sinfully decadent cheesecake that she knew damn well she should have passed on, Nico picked up her glass of unsweetened ice tea, taking a delicate sip before putting it down to continue her train of thought. "Well, personally I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to be in the service for ten years." Nico glanced down at Marlowe's forearm, where her corpsman tattoo stood out in stark relief. "Especially as a medic," she continued. "What made you decide to join up?" she asked her tone curious.

"Marley ain't too bright," a deep voice intruded, and Nico's dark blue eyes widened as she caught Happy's sardonic stare from across the table. "I think she was dropped on her head one too many times as a kid."

"Nico, don't pay any attention to my asshole of a brother," Marlowe said sweetly. "I've explained this shit to him too many times to count. I think he's getting senile in his old age."

Rolling her eyes as Happy shoveled a large bite of chocolate cake into his mouth, Marlowe ignored her brother, instead choosing to continue her conversation. "I guess you can say that I always had an interest in serving my country. While my counselors in high school thought I was smart enough to get a scholarship to college if I applied myself, schooling was never really my thing. I always wanted to travel, having lived all my life in Bakersfield and so I decided that joining the Navy sounded like a plan to me." Marlowe grinned as she took a long pull of her beer.

"Well in my line of work, I tend to be only on the periphery of crazy shit, so you should be proud of what you've managed to accomplish in the midst of all that shit, getting out and still somewhat whole."

"Yeah, I still got all my limbs and digits," Marlowe said dryly.

"I'm getting a vibe that you were probably a pretty tough nut even before you joined up," Nico countered.

Marlowe's eyes narrowed in consideration and then nodded. "And you'd be right. I got a pretty fuckin' big chip on my shoulder and to a certain extent it was a good thing too. Going through basic training was pretty tough."

"So if I had to guess I would think that the Navy pretty much finished up the training that, uh—how did you put it—," Nico grinned "the asshole across the table started," she said quietly.

Raising an eyebrow in surprise and with a smile of admiration crossing her face, Marlowe nodded. "That would be right," she returned, "but don't let him know that shit. His head is already too fuckin' big."

"He'll never hear it from me," Nico said with a grin and in that moment, as the two pairs of eyes met, something was quietly sealed between them.

"Something tells me that I'm going to end up really liking you," Marlowe said as she leaned back in her chair.

Nico picked up her water and took a sip. "Ditto, although for us to really get along, I need to take your ass shopping. Your body is way too buff to let it hide under an old ratty Navy t-shirt."

"Good!" Lyla exclaimed, having been content to just listen to the two women chat. "Maybe Gemma will stop nagging me to take her in hand, since Marlowe won't listen to my ass anyway," she said complaining. "Marlowe's got some really nice shit Gem made her buy but she rarely wears any of it."

* * *

As the three women burst into laughter and Nico started to argue the merits of a good wardrobe as Marlowe rolled her eyes, Jax sat back and grinned. It would seem that Nico was enjoying herself with his old lady.

Quietly observing the three women while shooting the shit with his brothers was not an easy task, but Jax managed the art of multi-tasking very well, well enough to pick up on the good vibes that seemed to instantly establish itself between them.

After leaving Nico at her new home, Jax had gone for a ride and spent much of the time reflecting on the older sophisticated woman. The way that she had approached him regarding his plans for the Club had been extremely encouraging. It was the first time, other than his old lady, that Jax found himself speaking with a woman and admiring her not just for her body, but for her fine mind. The only other woman that had a seriously sharp mind and a deep love for family was his own mother and even though they had only known each other a short time, Jax could see the positive aspects of Nico's personality that she had to offer.

And it was obvious that his brother had some admiration as well.

 _Although, it's prolly more likely that Hap just wants to fuck her_ , Jax thought with some amusement as he watched his SAA watching Nico from across the table. Jax was not naive when it came to his brothers and their desires. He knew exactly the type of men they were and Happy Lowman, as completely loyal as he was to the Club, was not a man committed to any one woman, which was why Jax realized that he better keep a tight watch on the situation.

It was obvious that something was brewing between his SAA and the Club's new lawyer. The last thing Jax wanted, however, was for shit to get blown up if Happy got a little too rough with the blue-eyed shark. Nico seemed to have a tough exterior, but she was still a woman and they can tend to get a little starry-eyed when it came to big bad bikers. There was also the Torelli Syndicate to consider as well. It was unlikely that Jimmy Cacuzza would take it kindly if his niece were to come to some emotional harm because of getting involved with one of the Sons, the blowback from which could seriously affect the Club's relationship with the Syndicate.

So for the sake of the Club and generally his own personal belief of protecting women, Jax had every intention of keeping a close eye on Happy.

 _And_ _Tiny._


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

**A/N: Hey peeps! First off, I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all for the many kudos and comments on this story.  Specifically big thanks to Amanda, Almond, dhnysports88, PadfootCc, fivefivegenie, hannahch, Kitsunechan, and elp109! So nice to hear from you that you are enjoying the story, so please keep it up!**

**Now as for this chapter, it's about to go DOWN!  Read this chapter in public at your own peril!  Readers have been asking for some sexy times with Nappy.  This Nappy sexy time scene is courtesy of Miss Harlee Quinn, who I badgered TO DEATH to write it as I don't write smut. Enjoy this chapter and make sure to make both Harlee's and my day by sending us plenty reviews!**

 

* * *

_**Charming CA--Sunday, April 3, 2011** _

Sitting quietly on a wicker couch in a small greenhouse on the Morrow's property was the absolute last place Nico would have pictured herself over the course of the evening, but oddly enough she felt quite comfortable despite the fact she was alone with Clay Morrow.

With the evening starting to come to an end, the rough as a cob outlaw biker had pulled out one of his favorite cigars after finishing his desert when Nico had excused herself from the table only to return with the gift bag and sitting in Gemma's vacated chair, placed it before him.

"What's this?" Clay had said with an eyebrow raised.

"Just a little thank you for you and your wife's hospitality," Nico had replied at which time Clay had reached into the bag to withdraw the box containing a bottle of premium whiskey and a box of beautifully hand rolled cigars.

"Well, well, well," Clay had grinned as he had surveyed his booty. "This looks pretty choice."

"Sure does, brother," Tig had chimed in. "I say we break that shit open!"

"I think you're right," Clay conceded, "but not with you Tigger." Watching Tig's crestfallen expression, Clay grinned and turned to shout for Gemma to bring him two glasses. Standing up, Clay took them and his gifts and turned towards the back door.

"Come with?" he said to Nico and quickly getting up without comment, she followed him out of the door.

Having broken the seal on the cigars, Nico had watched as Clay reverently caressed its contents before pulling one out.

Taking a deep appreciative sniff, Clay clipped the end and lit the cigar with his favorite lighter, deeply inhaling the rich fumes. Exhaling, a cloud of blue-gray smoke billowing from the end of the newly lit cigar and he sighed in contentment. Thoroughly examining the long, slender cigar in his fingers, the outlaw was surprised at its rich deep flavor and the robust hit of the nicotine as it kicked in.

Taking another draw on the cigar, Clay nodded in satisfaction and turned to look at Nico. "That's pretty damn smooth," he admitted.

"I'm glad you like it. I understood that you are a great fan of the Cohiba cigar, but I thought you would enjoy Arturo Fuente's Opus 22 Collection. It's my father's favorite. I always buy him a box for—" Nico bit her lip and concluded, "every year."

Seeing the faintest glimmer of emotion cross the young woman's face, Clay nodded respectfully. "I guess with him in the joint you haven't been able to do that for him, huh?"

"No, not for two years running now."

"You probably don't smoke, but you're welcome to light up one if ya like?" Clay said offering the Nico the box, but she shook her head.

"Not _tonight_ , thanks," she said surprising him, "but I wouldn't mind a drink, Mr. Morrow," she replied.

" _Clay_ ," he offered and she nodded. Opening the bottle, Clay poured two generous drinks and handed Nico one. Taking a sip of the fine liquor, he again nodded his approval. "Another of your Dad's favorites?"

"Yes. Mine as well," she replied as she took a sip.

Leaning back in his seat, Clay crossed a leg over his knee. "So, is all this," he waived a hand over the wicker coffee table in front of him with the liquor and cigars, "an effort to butter my ass up?"

Nico turned her head away as she did her best to smother her amusement before he noticed.

It didn't work.

"I say something funny?"

"Well, to be honest yes. I'm afraid the mental image of me rubbing a stick of butter on your ass was a little too much for me," she sputtered, her laughter emanating from deep within her belly.

Giving her the hairy eyeball for all of ten seconds, suddenly the old outlaw joined her in her mirth.

"That sounds like some kinky shit. You'd better not let my old lady hear you."

"No, I kinda get that would probably be a bad thing for my continued good health," she replied before taking another sip from her glass and then setting it down on the table. "But in truth I will admit that while the Glenlivet was definitely a thank you gift, _maybe_ the cigars were a little bit of butter.

"The fact is I didn't have a problem picking up on the vibe you were throwing off the other night," Nico said soberly. "And, I completely understand your concern. I know you and my uncle go way back and that the Club was instrumental in providing the Syndicate with the hardware they needed to handle business back in its very humble beginnings. In fact, I could probably go as far as to say that without the Sons, it would probably had taken my father and uncle and their respective partners a lot longer to have built up the family, and for that, I thank you," Nico said respectfully.

At first, Clay's expression was unreadable before a small smile of acceptance crossed his features. "That's big of you."

"Not really. I know it's the truth," Nico replied. "So part of me being here is as much to show appreciation for what the Club did for the Torelli's back then as I could reasonably do. I also appreciated what you did by giving my brother a pass concerning his little faux pas in stepping on the Sons' business."

"How is that going by the way?" he asked.

"Business is still good. However, with my ex-husband's demise, Dom's had to step up in his role with the Syndicate. His second in command of his crew however is quite capable and he knows the drill and is fully aware of the deal that is in place between the crew and the Club."

It was Clay who then decided to switch topics. "So you being here in Charming, how does that affect your work with the Syndicate?"

"It doesn't. I'm a woman of many talents," she smiled. "I'm very good at keeping all the balls in the air, I also know when to delegate what needs delegating and know how far I need to shove my foot up someone's ass to get shit done. And in this age of technology it's not a problem for me to troubleshoot situations for the Syndicate and still remain here in Charming straightening out the Club's issues, some of which I must admit I do find a little puzzling."

"How's that?"

Nico decided to tread carefully. "Just that I was a little surprised that some issues got by Scott Rosen. That is to say, I've never worked with him, but I had heard of him by reputation and he has an excellent one. So I was a little shocked that such a savvy lawyer like himself was having so much difficulty getting things in order for the trucking and porn businesses. This is just strictly between us, of course, as I in no way want to demean Scott, but some of issues that I've come across are rookie mistakes."

"Well, I'm not all that savvy myself, but it seems to me that nobody's perfect. I'm sure you've made mistakes before."

"I make a point of not making any and I have been fortunate along the way. When you've been practicing law as long as Scott and I have, making slip-ups like these are something you don't want to happen with your clients. In any event, I'm glad to be here to assist the Club in getting shit straight, and I'm sure once things are straightened out Scott will have no problem keeping things on the straight and narrow after I return to Reno," Nico smiled engagingly. "The fact is, this is going to be a really nice break for me. You have a lovely little town here. Sometimes a woman needs to get away from the hustle and bustle of life in a city like Reno."

"And I'm sure it's a good opportunity for your little brother to learn the business without big sister around to keep an eye on him," Clay said helpfully.

Nico nodded slowly. "Possibly," she conceded. Picking up her drink she took a healthy swallow. "Ultimately, my presence here is simply to help your streamline the legitimate arm of the Club's business, that's all. It seems like you have other very healthy business interests that seems to be running quite smoothly. I have absolutely no interest in being involved in _that business_ , which was why I was quite happy to remove myself from your chapel to let you and your brothers handle it. I hope that I've made my position here clear to you." Nico sat up and focused her eyes on Clay's intently. "I have no interest in messing in Club politics," she emphasized. "My uncle wouldn't like it. If I do what needs to be done for the Club, I should be back in Reno by the Fall. No harm, no foul and all parties satisfied."

Clay's steely-eyed glare was impressive and Nico figured that a far less confident woman would be quaking in her shoes as the outlaw used his cigar in a stabbing motion to make his point clear as crystal. "My brothers seem to be of the mind that we need you here. The fact that they voted to make use of your services speaks for itself." Clay leaned back in his corner of the wicker sofa. "I've checked you out, you know."

"Have you really?" Nico smiled.

"Yeah. Juicy Boy isn't the only one who can use a computer. I'm not a pro, but I can do the basics."

"And what did you find?"

"Well, sad to say, no naked pics," Clay offered a shit-eating grin. "But I found more than a few news articles and videos indicating that you have a pretty stellar reputation for being a shot caller and, despite the illegitimate side of the Syndicate, you are a well-respected corporate shark in Reno. On the personal front, you've got a kid, currently not living with you, so I guess that gives you plenty of time to work for the Syndicate. And you've done your fair share of charitable works—not as much as your mother, who by the way sounds slightly worse than my mama bear when it comes to that shit—but you do enough that it seems sincere. At least it does to those upper crust snobs who prolly love looking down their noses at your family because of your new yet slightly dirty money. Your uncle sings your praises and I've known Jimmy for over 30 years. He's no push over and despite that Italian machismo of his and the unspoken rule of no women in the Cosa Nostra, he has a surprising amount of faith in your abilities."

 _Well, listen to this charming motherfucker_ , Nico thought with amusement, refusing to allow her expression to reveal how impressed she was with his investigative work. _I guess no_ _moss grows on his ass_.

Clay took another draw on his cigar before he spoke again. "As I'm sure my son would tell you, I don't like change, especially if I think it's something that will put our Club at risk. We have a lot of relationships that need to be protected and I take that shit very, _very_ seriously."

"I can see that," Nico said as she watched Clay's hooded eyes.

"So, in short, you seem to think that you can accomplish your goal without stepping over the boundaries. Well, as long as you stick with that shit, remember what your role is while you're in Charming and stay the fuck out of Club business," Clay paused, "then I guess we're good."

Leaning back, Nico eyed the older man carefully and saw that he was serious.

 _Mission accomplished_!

"Can I get a handshake on that?" Nico cocked an eye.

"Why the fuck not?" Clay said expansively as he reached over to practically swallow Nico's small hand in his own.

Returning a firm grip, Nico swallowed the rest of the contents of her glass before setting it on the table and standing up. "Well, this has certainly been interesting, but I think it's bedtime for me."

Nodding at the empty glass, Clay raised an eyebrow. "You good to drive?"

"I think I can handle one shot. Besides, Happy's giving me a lift back to my place," Nico replied.

"Well, just make sure you hold on. Would be a shame for a pretty face like yours to end up with road hash," Clay grinned. "Tell Hap I said good night. I'm going to stay out here and finish my cigar before my old lady comes out here and puts her size nine's up my ass for killing her plants," he said as he waved his cigar around.

Having thus been dismissed by the Club's former president, Nico made a beeline for the door with a small smirk on her face. All things considered, the meet had gone well. Although she had not learned as much as she wanted from the former president, she figured she had done a good enough job in soothing his ruffled feathers concerning her presence in Charming.

If there was one thing she was certain of though, it was that Clay _had_ been the one behind Rosen's dragging his feet and his inexplicable mistakes on the Sons' behalf. There had been the barest hint of a glimmer in his eyes when she questioned him concerning the attorney's missteps. It was obvious to her that the outlaw wasn't above putting a spoke in Jax Teller's plans for moving the Club onto the path of legitimacy. Knowing that, would mean that she would definitely need to keep a watchful eye on the old man. There was no doubt in her mind that he could be a formidable enemy should he be inclined to do so.

Pushing off thoughts of Clay Morrow to be sifted through later, Nico quickly made her way to the back door of the Morrows' kitchen.

_The quicker I say my goodbyes, the quicker Happy can get my ass back home._

_Time to end this drought!_

* * *

Making her way out of Gemma's greenhouse, Nico reentered the house through the kitchen's back door, the heels of her boots clicking impatiently across the hardwood floor in anticipation of the night's end.

 _Make that beginning_ , she thought with excitement. The evening had certainly been enjoyable, but Nico was eager to get to what in her mind was the Main Event.

It seemed that during her absence the old ladies and their helpers had made quick work of putting the kitchen and dining room back to rights. Although there was still activity among the adults, most of the SAMCRO children were stretched out on couches and chairs, some in the midst of a deep sleep with others trying valiantly to stay awake despite droopy eyes.

It was apparent that the evening was winding down as several patches were in the process of leaving. If the brawny arms slung around the shoulders of croweaters and beefy hands already kneading their asses were any indication, Nico ascertained that while the family portion of Sunday dinner was over, that an after party was definitely on the horizon.

Jax confirmed her analysis when she walked up towards him. "Well, it looks like the party is over," he nodded at the retreating backs of several of his brothers as they headed towards the front door. "I hope you had a good time hanging out with us outlaws."

"I did. In fact I enjoyed myself immensely."

Jax quirked an eyebrow at her. "I was getting a little concerned. I was about to send the Calvary after you. You were locked down for a pretty long time with Clay. Everything okay?"

Nico grinned. "I think it went pretty well, considering. Nothing like good whiskey and a fine cigar to provide fertile ground for a meeting of the minds," she murmured quietly. "I think that I may have assuaged some of Clay's fears. He's made it very clear that since the majority around the table has voted to make use of my services, that I have been granted a temporary place in getting the Club's shit together and no more. I don't see it being a problem, _for now_."

"That's more than I could have hoped for," Jax said with a wide smile. "It looks like my new consigliere has quite the silver tongue." He reached out to take her hand and gave it a little squeeze before letting it go. "And I'm very grateful."

Surprisingly, Nico felt her heart skip a beat as Jax's deep blue eyes looked into her own. There was no doubt that the biker had a charming way about him or that he was earnest in his thanks. Even though Nico was not at all the type of woman to succumb to a pair of pretty eyes, she had to admit that Jackson Teller was a whole lot of man.

 _It's a good thing that I'm a professional…and that I have a yearning for bald-headed somewhat cranky motherfucker_ , Nico thought with amusement. _Besides, Marlowe seems like a tough cookie who wouldn't take kindly to me beaming moon eyes at her old man_.

"Well, I'm glad I could be of service," she said, "but I'd better leave before Clay comes back in and sees me apparently reporting to you on our meet."

"Good looking out. Let's get your shit then." Grabbing her coat and bag that hung from a group of hooks on the foyer wall, Jax held them out to her. "Let me walk you out."

Nico shrugged into her jacket and hung her bag on her shoulder. "It wouldn't be proper to go before I thank my hostess."

"Glad you enjoyed yourself," Gemma replied behind Nico, causing her to start abruptly.

 _Shit! I wonder how long she's been there?_ Turning around Nico faced the smirking woman. "So I guess slumming is not so bad, huh?" Gemma asked, her hands folded across her chest.

"No slum here," Nico said genially. "You have a lovely home, Gemma. I hope I get the pleasure of visiting again. With all of your duties tonight, we really didn't get a chance to chat."

"Well, I'm sure we can find some time to rectify that. How about tomorrow?" Gemma started.

"Ma, don't be pushy," Jax warned.

"What? I'm just being sociable," she replied archly. "Stop being a little shithead."

Nico coughed not at all managing to disguise her snort of laughter. "Give me a little time to settle in. I'm sure you can give me the lay of the land around here."

"I'll do that. I'm sure there are some things I could tell you to help keep you from any bad decisions. I'm sure that the Club wouldn't want Jimmy Cacuzza's niece to end up in a dicey situation."

Not sure if Gemma's remarks were genuine or more an indirect threat, Nico thanked her again before exiting the house. Escorted by Jax out of the front door, Nico looked around to search out her means of transportation and spotted her prey. Happy was leaning against his ride, with Opie standing at his side. With his brothers tossing shouts of thanks to Gemma for the meal, there was a sudden mass exit of bikes and cars. Eventually the Club's three officers were the only patches remaining on the Morrow's front walk.

Noting the sparkle in Nico's eyes and the predatory gleam of Happy's, Jax smirked. He and Opie had not been above trying to jerk Happy's chain when they were unruly teenagers growing up and, in spite of his age and position, Jax still wasn't above giving his brother some shit.

Jax strolled up to his brothers with Nico in tow. "Well, shit, everybody just ran the fuck outta here, huh?"

"Yeah," Opie replied. "It looks like the after party is about to get started down at the Clubhouse."

"You going, Ope?"

"Nah, I'm beat. I gotta get Lyla and the kids home." Opie grinned. "How about you?"

"Nope. I got my own party planned with my old lady as soon as we get Abel's little ass in bed." Jax turned to Happy. "But that doesn't mean that you can't swing it for the both of us, bro. We used Marlowe's cage tonight. I tell you what, why don't we drop Nico off at her house for ya? That way you can get to the lot before all the good pussy is gone." Jax hastily swallowed a bark of laughter as Happy glowered at him.

"Oh, um, Jax,—" Nico started, but was interrupted.

"I got this, bro," Happy replied, irritation in his voice.

"No, Hap, really. I don't mind. Nico's place is clear across town and you don't want Tig shutting you out. If you let him, the greedy bastard will set himself up with a harem before you get a chance to check out the goods," Jax said with a shit-eating grin. "Besides, Nico, you must be really tired after all that unpacking you did yesterday. With tomorrow being your first full day on the job, I'm sure you want to head right home and straight to bed."

"I will be just fine with Happy, Jax," Nico said quickly. "I'm sure Marlowe's anxious to get your son home and the way Hap rides, I'll be home in minutes, if not seconds."

"What's that about my crazy brother?" Marlowe asked. Striding forward to join the conversation, she had one arm holding a dead to the world Abel and a large canvas bag full with what was most likely leftovers slung over her other arm.

"Just offering to help Hap out by taking Nico home," Jax said glibly.

"Like I said," Happy said testily. "I got this shit."

"Just wanted to help you get a little down time, brother. Even old men like you need to get their freak on."

"No need to worry about my shit. I got it covered." Abruptly tossing his helmet at Nico who barely managed to catch it, Happy straddled his bike. "Let's go, Tiny. I ain't got all night."

Marlowe stood and watched as the small woman moved with an almost indecent haste to strap on the helmet as she headed towards her brother's ride. Jax, being a gentleman, offered her a hand to grasp while she used the foot pegs to climb up behind the ornery biker.

Reading her old man's knowing eyes easily, Marlowe almost frowned as her brother's end game for tonight became crystal clear. _Well, I'll be damned if Hap's not planning on being the one to tuck Lady Boss here into bed,_ she thought with exasperation _. Talk about moving fast. She's barely been in Charming three days._

Watching as the bike pulled off from the curb and streaked down the street, Marlowe shook her head, the concern that was mirrored in her gray eyes clearly evident. When skillfully pressured to intervene in Club issues by its former president, Marlowe—when asked for advice from her old man—had encouraged him to shed the Club's old counsel to neuter Clay's back door maneuverings within the Club. She had hoped that having new counsel that was firmly in her old man's corner would prove valuable and so far Jax seemed very pleased to have Nico Torelli on board.

Having only met tonight, it was too early to determine the caliber of woman that Nico was. Only time would tell whether or not she would make good on her promises to the Club. Like Marlowe herself in the beginning, Nico was a woman in association with the Club but not an old lady or a Club pass-around.

While it was likely she was skilled in her job as a lawyer, whether or not she could hold her own with an outlaw biker the likes of Happy was a complete unknown. Marlowe could only hope that by pushing her old man to get some new blood to help the Club she hadn't thrown a fragile woman on the fire and into her brother's clutches. After all, although Marlowe loved him dearly, she knew him all too well. Happy Lowman was definitely not a gentleman. He was the fuck 'em and duck 'em type.

 _Tiny, huh?_ Marlowe pondered the nickname he had already christened the newcomer with.

Happy was not a demonstrative sort of man. If he knew half of the names of the croweaters in his own Clubhouse it would be a true miracle. "Bitch" was pretty much the name of any and all of the Club woman as far as he was concerned. Knowing him as long as she has, nicknames for Happy were as close to a term of endearment as he was capable of and were reserved primarily for the women in his immediate family. Needless to say, Marlowe found it quite strange that he had already tagged a complete stranger, an associate who was in Charming to work for the Club, with a nickname. Recalling the barely-hidden lecherous look on his face, it was quite clear that _Tiny_ was an associate he had every intention of banging tonight.

 _I'm not seeing the whole picture, but something definitely unusual for Happy is going on here_ , Marlowe pondered as her old man took their sleeping son out of her arms to put him in his car seat.

* * *

A feeling of anticipation formed a pit in Nico's stomach as she and Happy streaked towards her temporary home. It seemed that he had decided against taking the scenic route as he directed his ride quickly through Charming's deserted business district and straight into the town's residential area. With her head tucked against his shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around his mid-section, Nico grinned with satisfaction and not a little relief.

Jackson Teller had been in real danger of getting her size 8s up his ass had he been successful in deflecting Happy from taking her home. Fortunately, it was clear from Happy's refusal to fall for Jax's baiting that he had every intention of nailing her ass as soon as he could get her alone and horizontal. While Nico had hoped to keep the fact that she intended to hook up with Happy to herself, it was obvious that, just like her sometimes annoying younger brother, Jax Teller was just as good at picking up on shit that didn't concern him. She could only hope that Happy and his VP would keep shit to themselves and not spread it among the rest of the Club. Nico wasn't interested in becoming fodder for gossip while in Charming, and neither did she want anyone thinking that she was open to party with any and all members of SAMCRO. Her primary focus was to fix the Club's business issues and she intended to do that and do it well.

But taking the old adage of "all work and no play" to heart, there was no reason why she couldn't have a little bit of side fun while on the job. With a self-satisfied smirk, Nico's shoulders lifted with pride as she realized that the Club's SAA chose her over a Clubhouse full of eager-to-please women.

Nico considered herself to be a pretty reasonable woman and the reality of the situation wasn't lost on her. While the initial vibe she got from Jax and Opie was that of two strongly focused family men, it was clear that Happy was at the complete opposite end of the spectrum. For an outlaw biker like Happy, there was obviously no need or desire to settle down. He was tough-minded and set in his ways and it was clear to Nico that he had no interest in anything permanent with her or anyone else for that matter. But after the misery that was her marriage, neither did she. Granted, had he chosen to kick it with some other lucky bitch down at the Clubhouse instead, she probably would have been a shade darker than just little pissed, but she was in no way jealous of the Club women. She had no special ties to Happy and he owed her nothing in return for spending time with her. Nico was determined to enjoy whatever time she had with the outlaw, no strings attached.

Nico grinned as Happy finally pulled onto her street, streaking by the houses that had probably long been darkened, its occupants more than likely deep in sleep, but in Nico's new home, there would be little to no sleep if she had anything to say about it.

Hopping off of Happy's ride, Nico stretched her arms above her head, her body as graceful and lithe as a cat's. She grinned, as she noted the avid look of lust in Happy's eyes as she slowly unbuckled the helmet and handed it to him.

"So," Nico drawled, "I had a lot of fun tonight. How about you?"

Happy shrugged his shoulders. "It was a'ight. Gem always puts out a nice spread," he replied as he dismounted his ride and hung his helmet and bike glasses on the handlebars.

It was a foregone conclusion that with the action of parking his ride Happy Lowman wasn't going any-fucking-where, but Nico decided that it wouldn't hurt to play with the outlaw just the same.

Digging into her handbag, Nico retrieved her house keys. "Well, tomorrow's going to be a long day. It would probably be a good idea to take Jax's advice and try and get an early night." Turning around and heading towards her front door, Nico managed to unlock the front door. "I guess maybe I'll see you tomorrow—"

Suddenly, Nico found herself being shoved through the front door.

"Hey!" She yelped her indignation.

"Hey, my ass," Happy growled. "You _are_ going to bed early tonight, Tiny, but you won't be going alone and you sure as shit ain't getting a whole lot of fuckin' sleep either."

Slamming the door behind him, Happy grabbed Nico's bag off her shoulder and tossed it on the couch. Next, he made quick work of roughly stripping the jacket off the gaping woman and tossed the same on top of her bag before taking her by her arm and striding through the small living room towards the back of the house. Completely ignoring her sputtering epithets—a mix of English and Italian—Happy threw open several doors until he found what he was looking for.

The muted feminine scent in the air—a mix of flowers and perfume—and girly furnishings, including the California King-size bed made up with a deep burgundy comforter and mounds of pillows, were a clear indication that he had found Nico's inner sanctum.

Happy practically shoved Nico into the room before kicking the door shut with a booted foot. "Get naked, Tiny," Happy ordered.

Nico pouted, her plump lips curving as she folded her arms over her chest. Having decided not to bring up Happy's no-show on Friday not wanting him to realize how burned she had been, Nico found herself needing to call him out on his bull shit. "Well ain't this some shit. I find it a more than little strange that you're so hot and bothered now considering the fact that you left my ass hanging Friday night. I waited for you for two—almost an hour before I realized you weren't going to show." Nico crossed her arms over her chest. "What's the deal?"

"That was then, this is _now_."

"So I should just drop trou, bend over and spread 'em in spite of you standing me up?" Nico shot back. While part of her was reliving just how pissed she had been, the other more wantonly part of her felt the excitement begin to grow when Happy slowly nodded his head in agreement.

"My town, my privilege," he said with a slight pause. "Now strip. Don't make me tell you a third time, Tiny," his gravelly voice caused shivers of desire to trail down her back.

Watching as Happy removed his kutte and laid it on the chair by the door without taking his eyes off her, Nico finally kicked off her heels and then pulled her blouse up over her head and off, while simultaneously wiggling out of her skin tight jeans.

The stunning visual was a little too much for the outlaw. "Jesus Christ, Tiny," Happy let slip out in a husky whisper, his hands itching to cup the creamy orbs threatening to spill out of her sinfully brief red bra as they jiggled with her every movement. It was as if the pocket-sized temptress, finally realizing her true power, had suddenly turned the tables on him.

Nico smiled teasingly as she reached behind her back, unhooked her bra with one hand and removed it in one fluid motion. Happy was across the room before the lacy garment could hit the floor, causing Nico to squeal as she playfully attempted to run into the bathroom but failed.

Determined to keep this shit under his control, Happy grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back flush against his chest. "Where the fuck you think you're going, huh?" Happy breathed into her ear through her thick mane, causing her nipples to harden. Cupping her naturally ample breasts, he alternated between kissing, sucking, and gently biting her neck. Nico moaned as she arched her back, causing her backside to come into contact with his already hard cock.

Fighting the urge to drop to her knees before him, Nico rubbed her thong-clad ass against his crotch. The unexpected and delicious friction forced a heated growl out of Happy and smoky-throated laughter out of Nico as she felt his cock jump. Grabbing her by her upper arms, Happy not-so-gently nudged her towards the bed. Not wanting to make it easy for him, especially after standing her up, Nico tried to resist him, but the outlaw was having none of it.

"Fuck, Tiny! Get your ass on the bed," he growled. "On all fours, damn it. Now!"

While her former husband had always taken the lead in their love-making, it had always been tame and restrained. Rocco never truly unleashed the type of wildness that Nico really craved in the bedroom, saving his lustful appetites for his whores instead. Secretly loving that Happy took charge, Nico slowly crawled onto the bed, watching over her shoulder as Happy pulled off his shirt and undid his pants. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a streamer of condoms, his eyes never leaving her round, tight ass. Ripping one open, he made quick work of sliding it on his hardened cock before striding towards her.

Before she could retreat farther up the bed and out of his reach, Happy reached out and playfully slapped one of her ass cheeks. "Ouchy!" Nico stopped, pouting as she rubbed the spot that was quickly turning pink. With a wicked grin, Happy grabbed her by the hips and pulled her towards him. A surprised gasp escaped her full lips as, without preamble, he wasted no time in pushing her thong to the side and thrust his incredibly hard dick into her moist wetness.

"Holy shit!" she called out as Happy ran his hand up her spine, grabbing the back of her neck, and forced her head onto the mattress. "Oh my God!" Nico ground out as Happy, bringing his hand back to her hip, mercilessly pounded into her.

"Shit, Tiny!" He moaned, surprised not for the first time that a woman like Nico would be so damn tight. Nico, her cries muffled by the mattress, practically screamed as Happy thrust himself harder and deeper. She threw her head back, her curtain of hair fanning her back.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She chanted breathlessly in rhythm with his thrusts. Happy grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to groan as he banged into her like he was putting out a fire. "Don't stop! Harder! Oh shit!" she screamed.

Feeling the walls of her pussy contract around his dick, Happy bent forward and growled into her ear. "You coming for me, Tiny? Grab that dick. I want you to cream all over it!" He demanded, never slowing his pace.

Nico's panting soon turned into throaty groans as Happy slipped one had between her legs, flicking and stroking her clit. Feeling the heat buildup in her core, Nico lifted herself up from the bed and wrapped her arms behind Happy's neck. He continued muttering dirty shit in her ear as his thrusting morphed into overdrive. Unable to hold out any longer, Nico gave in to the tremors that shook her body, screaming Happy's name as she came with such force that she went limp in his arms when she was done.

Still hard and turned on as fuck, Happy reluctantly pulled himself out of the glory he had found between her legs. Without removing his jeans, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Nico towards him, guiding her until she was straddling him. Letting himself fall back on the bed, Happy was momentarily stunned by how beautiful Nico Torelli indeed was. Most of the women he fucked, not all, were pretty in a trashy, rode hard and put up wet kind of way. Nico was the first woman who actually took his breath away with how beautiful and feminine she was.

So enraptured by the picture she presented over him in all her naked glory, Happy heard what sounded like his own voice say endearingly, "Ride me, baby."

Nico, also hearing the reverence in his voice, smiled down at him through half-hooded eyes as she braced herself against his chest, lifting her hips and tortuously slow lowered herself to sheath his cock with her pussy.

"Holy fuck, Tiny! You trying to kill me?" Happy breathed heavily, his hands gripping her hips in an attempt to get her moving at a quicker pace.

"Nuh uh, biker boy," she slapped his hands away. Grabbing his wrists, she pushed his arms back and over his head, pinning them to the mattress, her breasts dangling dangerously close to his mouth.

Happy licked his lips as their eyes locked. For the first time in his life he was giving up control to a woman and fuck it all to hell if he wasn't enjoying it! "You gonna ride me or what?" he challenged.

"Fuck yeah!" Nico laughed prettily. "But we're doing this my way and at my pace, got it?"

Instead of flipping her off of him like he probably would any other woman, Happy found himself smiling up at her. "Go for it, Tiny."

Without taking her vibrant blue eyes off his rugged, lightly bearded face, Nico started moving her hips in an excruciatingly slow circle. After about a full minute, she could see the quickened rise and fall of Happy's tattooed chest as his suddenly-heavy eyelids practically fluttered shut.

"Fuuuuck!" He groaned, his hand itching to grab her hips so he could plow into her and put an end to this incredibly amazing torture.

Nico slowly picked up pace until she herself couldn't maintain the cool and detached façade she had been aiming for. Bracing herself against his muscled chest once again, she started moving up and down, quicker and quicker, prompting Happy to open his eyes as he was not missing the sight of her glorious tits bouncing up and down.

"Yeah, just like that, girl," he coaxed. Unable to keep his hands from her any longer, Happy reached up and greedily grabbed one delicious bouncing orb in each hand, his roughened thumbs gently flicking her nipples until they were taut and erect peaks.

Hearing the breath catch in her throat, Happy pulled himself up into a sitting position, his hot moist mouth latching onto one of her breasts. With her hands gently gripping the back of his bald head, Nico let her head fall back, reveling in the sensations he was creating by sucking and nibbling quite hard on her nipples as he alternated from one to the other. Letting his hands blaze a trail of fire down her bare back, Happy clutched her perfectly rounded ass, increasing her pace as he moved her up and down. He was fucking mesmerized by the slick feeling of her pussy encasing his cock as it slipped up and down his shaft. She was quietly moaning through slightly parted lips as he entered her, filling her to the max, only to pull almost all the way out, leaving her feeling empty until he plunged into her again.

"Oh Happy," she groaned as she gleefully handed over control of her body to the one man who instinctively knew how to play it like a violin. From their very first night together, it was almost like they had danced this dance before.

"Tiny," Happy started, his voice hoarse against the long column of her slender neck. "If you plan on coming again, make it quick, girl before I bust this nut!"

Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, Nico closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the release that had been simmering just below the surface. Happy let out a grunt as he felt her walls encase him once again, convulsing in a manic effort to milk him of his man juice as Nico screamed through her second orgasm.

"Fuck!" he yelled out as his cock pumped his seed into the latex condom until he feared it would burst.

Barely managing to roll off Happy and onto her side, Nico could feel her heart rapidly beating in her chest, her core still vibrating with the sensation of Happy's thrusting even though he had pulled out and fallen back onto the bed.

"Shit," she said, her voice now hoarse, her deep blue eyes finally coming into focus as they landed on a similarly chest-heaving Happy. "Damn, I think you broke my pussy." She laughed.

"Not yet," came his raspy reply, "but give me about five minutes and I'll give it another go."

_Five minutes?! I may need a little more than five minutes to recover, but hot damn if that ain't dirty loving at its finest!_

So far, the fringe benefits of Nico living in Charming were definitely living up to the hype.

_Yay for me!_


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.**

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Monday, April 11, 2011** _

Slamming her car door, Nico confidently strutted across the lot towards the Clubhouse and for probably the tenth time that morning pondered as to why she had been summoned to make an appearance.

_I've only been here ten days. I can't have possibly started some shit yet._

But for some reason she had been dragged out of her fucking bed because the SAMCRO Prez had some sort of issue.

Jax had been pretty noncommittal about his request that had sounded to Nico's mind more like a veiled order, stating that it was something important and that it couldn't wait. When she prodded him to tell her the problem over the phone, at his insistence that he needed to see her in person, she had bit back a heavy sigh of irritation. Wiping the sleep from her eyes and stifling a yawn, she had finally conceded before hanging up her cell phone, tossing it on the night stand before plopping herself back onto her rumpled bed in frustration.

"You were the one who said she needed a break," she had muttered aloud to herself. "Well, here it is, playing beck and call bitch to a bunch of bikers who apparently didn't know that calling at 6 am in the fucking morning is too damn early."

Giving herself a few more minutes to sulk in her private pity party, Nico had finally gotten up, took care of her morning rituals before quickly getting dressed and heading out the door.

Making her way towards the lot, Nico spent most of her commute time musing about the possible situation that required her presence. Having been incommunicado with Jax as he and a number of patches had been unexpectedly called out of town to Utah to deal with what she assumed was some sort of internal problem with a charter, Nico had been left to her own devices. She had made good use of the time alone, delving deeply into the Unser Trucking problem and spent many hours reviewing the documents provided by the Club's former counsel and at the same time picking the brains of Wayne Unser regarding the company's current business practices.

The work was surprisingly invigorating and had managed to keep her preoccupied enough to push aside the fact that she was spending her nights alone. _Again._

The mere thought of Happy Lowman was enough to bring a sly smile to her lips and a quiet sigh of satisfaction. The outlaw had certainly given new meaning to rocking a woman's world. He had quite literally worn her ass out after taking her home from the SAMCRO family dinner. It had been a long time since they had last hooked up together at her home in Reno and apparently her body had truly missed the sexy biker.

The only thing that had pissed her off was the fact that Happy hadn't stayed the night, instead opting to leave around four in the morning. After she had woken up to find him gone, although she had been upset Nico rationalized that it was probably better this way. After all, it's not like they had an actual relationship. It was just a bit of fucking— _some really, really good fucking_ —so there was no reason for her to get all pissy because Hap decided to bail on her after hitting her shit.

What had truly been invigorating was the fact that the control freak of an outlaw had actually given her a measure of control during their sexy time and it was clearly apparent that he had enjoyed it. Always having to be the submissive one in her relationship with her deceased ex, Nico had thoroughly relished being the one to take charge and had turned into something of a sultry temptress, if she did say so herself and had completely surprised herself. Even now Nico clenched her thighs together as she remembered how powerful it had felt to have the outlaw at her mercy and control.

Letting her newly found freak flag fly might have been a little too much for him, however, as for the rest of the night, Happy had called the shots, ordering her to pleasure him and she had shamelessly did everything he had asked and had been completed sated.

Nico was determined, however, that he wasn't going have it all his way, not all the fucking time. _I don't think I'm quite ready for a dominatrix outfit…yet_ , Nico grinned. _Prolly would be a little too much for the outlaw, anyway. While Hap probably thinks he's seen and done it all, I think handcuffs and some velvet rope would probably cross a line with him—not quite gay, but a little_ _too_ _unconventional. No matter. Mr. Happy Lowman has unleashed some shit that can no longer be contained._

* * *

Finally pulling into the lot it was noticeably quiet. There weren't too many people in the way of mechanics when Nico arrived, but as she parked her car she spotted several bikes that indicated that there were Sons on the premises, including Happy's.

Finding it a little difficult to put aside her musings about the outlaw biker, Nico pushed the door open and walked into the Clubhouse. It was dark and quiet except for the bright lights above the bar highlighting the shaggy-haired biker who was pouring a large mug of what smelled like some truly magnificent coffee.

"Good morning," she called out as she approached the bar. Coming to a stop, Nico slung her briefcase and handbag off her shoulder and placed them on top of bar. Turning up the wattage on her smile, Nico leaned against the bar. "Bobby Munson, right? I missed you at Gemma's last week."

The older man smiled flirtatiously at her. "That's right, darlin—I mean Counselor. I had a gig up in Tahoe."

Nico nodded at the large mug in his hand. "You have any more to spare?" she asked hopefully.

Bobby Elvis smiled cheerfully. "For a beautiful woman like you, I think I could scarce up another cup," and reached underneath the bar to for a mug and grabbed the carafe sitting behind him. "How you take it?"

"Black as sin," she replied grinning and gratefully accepted the coffee and taking a sip. "Hmm, heaven."

Perching herself on a bar stool, Nico took another grateful sip. "So I heard from Marlowe that Tahoe is pretty much your stomping grounds. I probably know where you do your gigs. The Syndicate has a number of interests in the entertainment industry in that neck of the woods, a Casino resort and about a half a dozen private gaming and gentleman's clubs."

Bobby grinned. "Yeah? I'm pretty familiar with the clubs around those parts. In fact, my old man used to do the books for the mob in Reno about 40 years ago, just before the Syndicate came in, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, really?" Nico said with interest. "So he worked for the Marconi Family?"

"Yeah, until the Don got too feeble to hold onto his territory. My old man said that he was muscled out by a couple of made men outta New York looking to make their mark. When the new regime took power, he decided it was a good time to retire and move his ass to Florida. I used to help him with the books back in the day, learned a lot of shit, which comes in pretty handy in my role as SAMCRO's Treasurer. He was gonna put in a word for me to work the new family in charge, but I decided that I much preferred being an Elvis impersonator than being tied to a desk 9 to 5 totaling columns and hiding illegal money all fuckin' day. Then one fine day I crossed paths with the MC and ended up finding my true calling." Bobby grinned engagingly. "So the new muscle…that was your old man, huh?"

Nico nodded. "That's right—Gianni 'Brooklyn Johnny T' Torelli and his brother-in-law Giacomo 'Jimmy' Cacuzza," she said wryly. "What a small fucking world. Why didn't you say something to me before now about our mutual history?"

"Oh, I figured I'd give you time to settle in, darlin'. Besides, I like to get the read on new people who are unknown to the Club. With my brothers signing off on you and you invited to join the family at Gemma's hearth and home, I figured you had to be all right."

"I'm glad you approve," she snarked. "This is too, too strange. Had you come on board, you could've been an associate of the Syndicate, Bobby, maybe even managing one of our Clubs by now."

"Well, as much a part of your family that a big Jew brain like me could have handled," he grinned. "So who is running your crew now?"

"Leo—" Nico started.

"Perelli?" Bobby interrupted. " _He's_ your guy?"

"That's right." Nico took another sip. "You know him?"

The biker shook his head. "Not personally. I've heard of him. Kind of slick and runs a pretty tight ship according to the word on the street. In fact, I do my act in a lounge not too far away from one of his Clubs."

"Are you talking about that lodge-style venue owned by Jack Simon?"

"Yeah, that's it," Bobby said genially. "I've been on his books for the last ten years or more."

"No shit. I know that place well. You realize you're working for the Family's main competition in Tahoe," Nico said putting down her mug. "I'm sure you know The Grange?"

"I sure do, darlin'. It's one of the top Tahoe resort destinations. One of the best casinos in that part of Nevada, lots of showrooms, lounge acts and pretty fancy digs, too," Bobby said, admiration in his voice.

"Very fancy," Nico agreed. "And if I remember correctly, our entertainment director always blames the competition's Elvis show whenever we see a drop in attendance at our variety shows. Maybe we can find some time to talk later this week, Bobby. I would just love to steal Simon's talent right from under him by giving a nice big bump to your performance fee." Nico looked at her watch.

"I'm available any time, Nico. You just let me know," Bobby replied as a gleam came into his eyes at the thought of performing at a new venue for more money. "So what _are_ you doing here so early? It's practically the ass crack of fucking dawn."

"Your Prez asked me to stop by before I got started with my day. He said it was important, but I needed a hit of Joe first before I tracked him down."

"Well, he's in the Chapel, so go on and knock on the door. I got to get a pan of banana bread out of the oven."

"Please save me a slice. Marlowe told me it's legendary." Nico watched as the pot-bellied man grinned appreciatively.

"Oh it is, and I will save you a nice big piece."

* * *

Turning and heading towards the chapel with her desperately needed hit of caffeine in hand, her bags in the other, Nico was about to bump the door with her hip when Bobby hurried over to do the honors. Being told to enter, Bobby graciously opened the door for her and Nico walked in to find Jax sitting in his customary spot at the head of the table. And he wasn't alone.

Happy, sitting on Jax's right, eyed Nico with a little smirk. The biker was looking particularly fine that morning, head and chin freshly shaven, a black t-shirt and dark jeans under his kutte.

"Morning Nico," Jax said cordially. "Have a seat."

Pulling out the chair on his right, Nico sat down and placed her coffee on the table and dumped her bags in the chair next to her. "So what's the story, Jax?" she asked. "I was having a really nice dream when you woke my ass up, so I hope this shit is important."

"Oh it most definitely is," the SAMCRO Prez said as he tapped his cigarette ash into an ashtray. "It seems I've been a little remise about your safety."

For a moment, Nico was nonplussed. "My safety?" she said a little uneasily. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Well then let me lay it out for you. You're doing a lot of shit for the Club in unfamiliar surroundings—" Jax started and was surprisingly interrupted with a not so quiet sigh that emanated from Nico's lips.

"Can I finish here without the commentary?" he said evenly.

Nico, who was quickly starting to realize where this discussion was heading barely managed to avoid rolling her eyes and instead gave him a sharp nod.

_Okay biker boy, I'll hear you out. But if I don't like what I hear, you're going to know it quick, fast and in a fuckin' hurry._

"Look, Charming is a nice little town as far as towns go, but it sits in the heart of Sanwa County with cities and towns that have a lot of shit go down in them. I know you'll be making a lot of rounds to Stockton and Lodi on our behalf, but you won't be wearing a kutte when you do. None of the crews out here has a clue about your connections to the Syndicate and while it's highly unlikely that you could end up in some unexpected shit, you don't have anyone with you who could vouch that you're under the Club's protection." Jax sat back and saw Nico's tightened posture and did his best to mask a grin.

_I knew she wasn't going to like this shit, but it's not really up to her, is it?_

"So let me guess," Nico said mutinously. "You wanna stick me with one of your prospects tailing my every move while I'm here," she concluded.

"Something like that."

"Look Jax, I really appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I don't think—" Nico started and watched as Jax held up a hand to stop her.

"Technically the thoughtful gesture wasn't mine." Noting Nico's befuddled expression, Jax continued. "The idea of providing you with security was brought to my attention and afterwards, I was embarrassed that I hadn't thought of it myself."

"And just who put the bug in your ear?" Nico said her eyes firmly fixed on Happy who had remained silent throughout the exchange.

"Your uncle."

Nico's head snapped back to Jax's. "Zio? Jimmy called _you_?"

"Yes he did. He was glad that you could return the favor of helping us out with our legit interests, but he was worried about your safety. He thought about sending two of his own people to protect you—"

"Two of his soldiers?! Here in fucking Charming?! Is he crazy?!"

"Apparently not. He reasoned that sending his own people would make you stick out like a sore thumb and might put eyes on our business interests that we wouldn't want. That's why he was hoping that I would assign someone to look after you while you're with us and I agreed."

"But—"

"But nothing. This is non-negotiable. If something were to go down—however unlikely—and you were seriously hurt or injured while on Sons-related business—it could cause major issues between us and the Syndicate," Jax suddenly grinned, "not to mention the fact that you're kind of growing on me. I'd hate to have anything bad to happen to you, so you can squash any attempts to get me to change my mind."

Seeing the stubborn glint in his eye, Nico sighed heavily before finally conceding defeat. "All right already. I accept," she said a little ungraciously and then bit her lip. "I'm sorry if I'm coming across as bratty, but I've always managed to take pretty good care of myself. I think that Zio is being just a little overprotective, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness and your willingness to provide it." Nico ran a hand through her hair. "So who are you gonna stick me with? That skinny Ratboy?"

"I would never put you with a new patch, Nico. When you care, you only send the very best," Jax grinned mischievously, "which is why Happy is going to be your new best friend."

"What. The. Fuck?"

"That's right. You're going to have to get used to having this bald mutherfucka shadow you for the next six months," Jax said cheerfully with a shit-eating grin.

* * *

Jax sat back watched the number of interesting expressions that flew across Nico's face. Although surprise and anger seemed to be the chief ones, it was the briefest expression of satisfaction that he was most interested in.

When he had got the call from Jimmy Cacuzza about providing security for his favorite niece, the mobster had been surprised to find out that Jax was already taking steps to make those arrangements, but the fact was that he could only have said so because of his SAA.

It had taken Jax completely by surprise when during their road trip Happy had approached him on the issue. Having stopped at Rogue River's Clubhouse for a brief overnight, the visiting patches had been thoroughly enjoying the charter's hospitality with plenty of food, liquor and women to be had. Jax, although sociable, had settled himself down with Opie in one of the lounging areas enjoying a beer when his SAA broached the idea of assigning a prospect to watch after Nico while in NorCal.

Happy's concern was especially interesting considering the fact that at the time one of the charter's pass-arounds was seriously intent on dry humping him. Instead, his SAA had gotten up from a comfortable chair brushing off the curvy blonde. Sitting next to him on the couch, Happy brought up his idea and spent a few minutes outlining a few of good reasons why it was in the Club's best interest to keep a close eye on their new counsel.

" _I don't think any bad shit is gonna go down," Happy had said in his serious, gravelly tone, "After all, we don't have any major beefs with any of the crews right now and it's not like Tiny's somebody's old lady, but if something should come up—the Lobos get squirrely again or one of the crews in Lodi or Stockton stir some shit up—it's possible that she could get caught in the crossfire, and that would be bad for the Club, bad for our business plans and it could get us a new enemy in the Syndicate."_

Jax had thanked his brother for bringing the possibility to his attention and decided to think it over to see who he'd put on her security detail. So it was something of a surprise to get a call from Cacuzza a couple of days later also voicing his concerns and Jax realized that he needed to take immediate action. It had been a surprise to Jax that Jimmy requested that Happy be the one assigned to protect his niece and Jax had concurred but not just because Hap was his best man.

Jax had thought it more than a little interesting that his brother seemed to have an inordinate amount of interest in the tiny lawyer from Reno, and it had been noteworthy to him that that interest seemed to be reciprocated, despite the squabbling he had seen between them.

It had been clearly evident to both Opie and himself during their visit to Reno a few weeks back that there was something more going on between Happy and Nico. In the aftermath of the party, Jax had taken the opportunity to cock block his SAA, something that had not endeared himself to his brother and probably would have netted him a cap in the ass if he hadn't ceased throwing a wrench into his brother's dick games.

 _And if Kozik's observations had been correct, Happy had surely tapped Nico's fine ass._ His brother had dropped the bug in his ear that Hap hadn't returned from family night until the early hours of the next day—long after he dropped Nico home for the evening.

Jax wasn't sure how long it had been going on but Jax did recall that Happy had been the one to pat Nico down when the Torelli siblings had boldly shown up in Charming, and he vaguely recalled noticing the two of them talking on the lot just before Nico and her brother had left town.

Jax wasn't entirely sure if throwing the two of them together was in the best interest of the Club. After all, while mixing business with pleasure ended up working out for him and his old lady, generally speaking it's not the norm. If Nico were a different kind of woman, Jax would dare say that this situation had the potential to blow back on the Club, but the counselor didn't seem to be the type to deliberately shit on a deal just because a hook up went sour. Nico seemed professional and valued her reputation too much as a good businesswoman and lawyer to allow petty shit to get in the way.

As for his brother, Jax was interested to see where Happy's head was at. It was not like him to take a specific interest in a woman and although he cited his main concern for the Club as the reason why he was pushing for security for Nico, Jax didn't believe him.

So sitting back he watched as the two butted heads and negotiated a reasonable working boundaries for Nico's security so that Happy could guarantee her safety and still meet his obligations to the Club as its SAA and bag man.

_The next six months are going to be really, really interesting._

* * *

_Non-fucking-negotiable_ , Jax Teller had said.

_Well, shit._

Walking out of the Chapel, Nico was not in the best of moods. No matter how hard she had tried to debate with Jax on the matter of her security, she had been outmaneuvered. Going up against one hardened biker she might have had a chance but apparently she was no match for two patches _and_ her uncle, who were all hell bent on providing her with protection regardless of whether or not it was actually necessary.

Marching over to a table where Bobby was waiting with a fresh carafe of coffee and a plate of what smelled like slices of heaven in the form of warm banana bread, Nico plopped herself down into the chair next to him.

"I need another hit. And I'm going to warn ya, I might eat everything on that damn plate," she muttered snatching up the coffee and pouring herself a fresh mug.

"You don't look too happy," Bobby replied as he took an empty plate and placed two generous slices on it and handed it to her. Looking over her shoulder, he eyed the two men who had followed Nico out of the Chapel. "Okay, Hap. So what did you do to piss off such a lovely young woman?"

"Why it's got to be me, asshole?" Happy retorted, reaching over to snag a piece of banana bread.

"Because typically Jax is a lover of the ladies and always manages to leave them smiling, gentleman biker that he is even though they don't like the shit he's done."

Nico chuckled as Happy rolled his eyes. "It's so nice to see that your brother knows you so well," she said before breaking off a corner of the bread and put it into her mouth and moaned as the tasty goodness slid down her throat.

"Stop moaning. It's just some damn bread," Happy ordered irritably.

_Besides, Tiny should only make that noise when I cum inside her._

"You may be chauffeuring me around, Ace, but you're not the boss of me," Nico retorted as she broke off another piece. "Bobby, this is awesome."

"I'm glad you like it Counselor, but you need to explain What's this about my brother being your chauffeur?"

"He's not…technically," Jax replied grinning. "But while Nico is with us, we decided that it would be best for her to have an escort while she is working for the Club. She's fine on her own here in Charming, but Jimmy Cacuzza believes—and both Hap and I agree—that its best that while she's in NorCal that she have a patch on her whenever she's outside town." Pulling a chair out from another table, Jax seated himself. "Unfortunately, Ms. Torelli is a little bit pissed."

"I have a right to be," Nico sighed as she put down her plate. "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

"Uh, no you're not, _Tiny_. This ain't Reno and Jimmy has a right to be concerned. I bet 50 bucks you don't even have a gun."

"Then pay up sucker," she exclaimed triumphantly, holding out a small hand while Jax and Bobby started chuckling. "I have one."

Ignoring her outstretched hand, Happy crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her derisively. "So where the fuck is it?" He paused for a beat as he noted her discomfited expression. "I know it ain't in that girly bag or briefcase you're sporting, is it?"

"So what if it's not?" she snapped.

"Do you even know _how_ to shoot it?" Jax asked.

 _Shit, why did I open my fucking mouth?_ Nico thought balefully. "Yes, I know how."

Giving his SAA an unspoken request, Jax smiled as Happy returned an almost imperceptible nod of agreement. Knowing that Hap would handle the situation, Jax decided to leave it in his hands.

"Well that's good to know. So what are your plans for this week in terms of traveling?"

Staring at both men, Nico threw in the towel. Having Happy as an escort was obviously a done deal. Not really liking the idea of having a shadow was something she was going to have to get over, yet there was a part of her who had to admit that on some level she liked the idea of being around Happy outside of their hook ups.

"Fine," she said with resignation. "There is a meeting that I wanted to run by you in Lodi that I would like to set up. Actually, having a patch there might help with introductions, if you're okay with the agenda I want to set."

"All right," Jax said. "Tell me about it."

* * *

_**Lodi, CA—Tuesday, April 12, 2011** _

The trip to Lodi was barely 20 minutes on the I-22 and Nico had no problem following behind her would-be babysitter as Happy streaked down the highway. She had initially suggested that instead of him riding his bike that he could ride with her, but the outlaw said he didn't make a practice of riding around in cages unless he was at the wheel.

"Well, since I'm the only one that drives my fucking car, I guess that means I'll be riding solo," Nico had quipped as she slipped behind the wheel of her sports car. "Let's hit it, Ace. Time is money."

Making their way to the rendezvous—a popular diner right in the middle of the city's business district, Nico spent time verbally reviewing aloud her plan of operation and hoped that all would be satisfactorily concluded as she pulled into a parking spot while Happy pulled into another a few spots away.

Having done some investigative research with some assistance from the Club's Intelligence Officer, Nico was unsurprised at the physical appearance of the woman sitting alone in one of the diner's banquettes.

In her mid to late 50's, Lois Brewster was a tall and painfully thin woman. Her hair, probably once an attractive dark brown was heavily sprinkled with gray, and although her face was not heavily lined, the crow's feet at the corners of a pair of dull brown eyes on which rested thin horn-rimmed glasses bespoke a typically overloaded clerical worker in the Lodi judicial system.

Having greeted the woman cordially and introducing Happy and herself, Nico placed an order for coffee for herself and Happy and all the while Lois' expression spoke volumes. Lois had been waiting for their arrival rather impatiently it would seem—the remains of what looked like a grilled cheese sandwich and an empty cup of coffee on the table in front of her. The lunch hour had long since passed when they had pulled into the diner's parking lot and upon entering the establishment they found it quite empty with a few scattered customers finishing the remains of their meals.

It was very apparent to Nico that sitting in one of Lodi's dining establishments during what was probably a stingy lunch break was the last place Lois wanted to be. It had been difficult to pin the woman down for a meeting, but Nico had been persistent explaining that it was a matter that would probably have some financial gain for all those involved.

Waiting until after their waitress delivered two cups of coffee and refilled Lois' cup, she was the first to break the silence.

Pursing her lips as she eyed Nico, allowing her gaze to rest briefly on the man sitting next to her, Lois rolled her eyes. "So," she said, her irritation clearly evident, "I guess I can take it from that kutte he's sporting that the reason you wanted to meet has to do with my brother."

Nico nodded respectfully. "Yes, that's correct. I was hoping that a meeting between us would be able to assist us regarding a situation that we were hoping to resolve with Otto. As it stands, it's a matter of public record that your brother has not sought an appeal to stay his execution and according to information that I've obtained, Mr. Delaney is looking to accelerate his sentence as soon as possible, hopefully before the end of the year. As new counsel for the Sons of Anarchy, I would first like to express our sympathy for—"

"You can spare me your expressions," Lois cut in. "I don't really have time for them. Maybe you should get to the point as to why you wanted to meet."

 _Tough cookie_ , Nico thought as she took in the woman's gimlet stare. _All right then._

"With your brother on Death Row, his access when it comes to visitation has been strictly limited to either family or to his Counsel of Record. Several attempts had been made by partners at Rosen, Lowen & Associates to speak with him, but they ran into several roadblocks. With Scott Rosen also known as attorney for the Sons, prison officials have been stonewalling any attempt to gain access to Otto. But in addition to that your brother has also made it clear that he doesn't' want a meeting either. I was hoping that maybe you might be able to help us find out why."

Lois took a sip of her coffee before replying. "I would think that his Club would know the answer to that," she said eyeing Happy with disdain. "After all, you patches are supposed to be his brothers, looking out for one another. I guess that shit don't apply to members in prison."

"You'd be wrong about that," Happy said grimly. "Big Otto is family. Any brother who puts on a kutte will always _be_ family."

"So you really believe that shit around your neck then?" Lois derided eyeing Happy's tattoo. "I don't think so, because if you did, my brother would know that justice had been served, but he don't know shit and hasn't ever since Luann was put in her grave." she nodded slowly as a light of understanding filled the dark brown eyes boring holes into hers. "That's right. I'm talking about Otto's old lady. While my brother was rotting away in prison for the Club, _for his brothers_ , the least you could have done was to look out for his woman. Instead, you let her get beat to death, and nobody has done shit to find out who did it. My brother is headed to an uneasy grave and he won't even have pleasure of knowing that the bastards who killed her have paid for it with their lives."

* * *

 _Shit, the skinny bitch is right_ , Happy thought bleakly.

Although Happy had transferred to SAMCRO only a few weeks after Luann Delaney's death, he was fully aware of the impact her passing had had on the Club. Her death, along with the arson of the Club's warehouse-turned-porn studio combined with an ongoing issue with his stepfather had been the catalyst that had finally compelled Jax to decide to go Nomad. If not for Gemma coming clean about her rape at the hands of A.J. Weston and his crew, Jax might not have stayed in Charming.

With the Club immediately serving their 14 months in Stockton Prison after their return from Belfast, the Club, with Jax at its helm had hit the ground running, first by hitting back at the Russians for their attempted murder of Jax and their usurping the lion's share of the Irish guns. Second, Jax launched a silent coup against Clay which propelled him to the head of the table and had him overseeing the new business that had the Club going at full throttle. With other issues coming to the fore—the Lobos/Galindo War, the doctor bitch's betrayal, the attack on Lyla Winston and not to mention Jax's developing new relationship with his sister—finding out the truth behind what had happened to Luann Delaney and meting out outlaw justice had somehow fallen through to the wayside.

And their brother Otto had been left hanging.

"Yeah," Happy admitted. "You're right about that shit. The Club has been going through a lot over the last couple of years, but that's still no excuse. The bastards responsible should have been put six feet under long ago."

Lois nodded grimly. "I may not have approved of the way Luann chose to earn her living, but she was a good wife to my brother. She deserves to get justice and I don't mean 10 to 20 in Stockton Prison either." Lois gave Nico a hard stare. "That may be wrong of me, but that's how I feel. And let's not be coy here, Ms. Torelli. I don't want to hear the 'Don't speak about cold blooded murder in front of me because I'm an Officer of the Law' bullshit. If you work for the Club you ain't squeaky clean and have probably heard of and have done a hell of a lot worse on their behalf."

The tension was as thick as ice as the woman's words struck home.

"I never claim to be other than what I am," Nico said calmly, "which is a damn good lawyer who understands the gray areas of conducting business for an organization like the Sons. Just as I am aware that in the past, the Club has relied heavily on you—with the level of access your job provides within Lodi's court system—to gather information and give assistance on several occasions that had been greatly appreciated by the Sons."

At that, the woman sat back and nodded slowly. "What happened to Luann and the things I did for the Club was a long time ago. Before we go any farther, maybe you should explain exactly _why_ you want to speak to Otto after all this time."

"We can do that," Nico said quietly. For the next few minutes she explained the Club's agenda while Lois carefully pondered over her explanation.

Finally, Lois put her coffee cup down and ran a hand over her hair. "Look, I've been working in this crappy job for 25 years. I got five to go before I can take early retirement and I'm not trying to jeopardize my shit. I may work in law enforcement, but I don't trust lawyers and I don't need some shit blowing back on me because of Otto." She sighed heavily. "Don't get me wrong, I still love the asshole despite all the shit he's done, but I got my own family to think about."

"I can understand that," Nico said soberly. "Otto's your younger brother, right?"

"Yeah."

"You have my sympathy," Nico grinned. "I've got one too."

"How much younger?" Lois asked, showing a little interest.

"Five years. I have two older sisters, but I have always been closest to him. He's a good guy but he can be pretty extreme, stubborn, too. Wants to go his own way all of the fucking time, despite my father wanting him to follow in his footsteps. Regardless, I still love him. Faults and all," Nico said.

Lois smiled wryly. "Sounds like you've been there with him. It was just me and the little shithead after our parents died. His ass was always in trouble and I was always trying to get him out of it. Then he started prospecting with the Club and even though his crazy, demented assholery never changed, I could see how important the Club was to him, how it somehow gave him a sense of responsibility, purpose. I remember when he patched in," Lois eyed Happy. "It was probably the happiest day in his life when he showed up at my place with his top rocker, other than him marrying Luann. I didn't know a lot about the MC life back then, but the Sons did have a reputation as being a pretty wild bunch. Honestly, I couldn't really understand the appeal of living that kind of life."

Not one to share the reasons behind the choices a man makes when becoming a part of an MC, Happy realized that Lois was genuinely looking for answers and found himself sharing a part of himself. "Not many people do. If you ain't a part of it, you never will, but it was the life Big Otto _chose_. That's some shit you gotta respect. So if you love and respect your brother, then I think you'd want to help him settle his affairs and go out of this life with some dignity. Nico can help make that shit happen if you let her help." Happy paused and then continued. "And I respect and love my brother enough to promise you this: it may be long overdue, but the Club won't leave this shit with Luann undone. Regardless of whether you help us with Otto, I promise you, I'll handle that shit personally. For my brother, my family."

Holding her breath, Nico watched as the woman contemplated Happy's words and saw the exact moment when she accepted them.

"Okay. So how would we go about it?"

* * *

Nico leaned against her car door looking up at her escort. After finalizing details as to their next moves, they had watched Lois make her way back to her job before paying for the bill and exiting the diner.

"You did good Tiny. Talking about your shithead of a brother did the trick." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "You always slick like that?"

Nico grinned. "I do whatever the job requires. In this case, it _was_ all about making a connection. Her giving us shit initially was more to do with her not wanting to come to terms with the fact that she's gonna lose her brother. That's not some easy shit to face. There's probably a part of her that will always blame herself that she didn't look after him better," she said a little wistfully.

"Are you talking about her or yourself?" Happy questioned.

"Are you trying to psychoanalyze me, killer?" Nico dodged.

"Hey, I ain't no Dr. Phil," he retorted, "but I ain't stupid. You ain't in Charming just to help the Sons. You as much as said that this time away will give your brother time to get his shit together. It's a good thing. Asshole needs to become a man to do what needs to be done for his family. Besides, ain't no need for you to worry. He ain't gonna end up like Otto."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause he's got you looking after his snotty nose. And that's a good thing. You're a tough bi—broad, Tiny."

Nico crossed her arms over her chest. "Well I guess broad is better than bitch, huh?"

"Exactly," he shot back.

"Well, I want to thank you Hap. I guess having your ass ride shot gun with me had some extra benefits today. I would have got her on board eventually, but it was a lot easier with you there. You did really well in there killer," she replied.

Happy shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't do nothing. Just told her some real shit is all."

"You did more than that, Hap. You set her mind at ease about her sister-in-law. But now that you've made a promise, you're going to have to deliver on it." Nico cocked her head sideways as she eyed him. "How is the Club going to feel about that?"

"I know my Prez. Jax will support me on it and so will the Club. As I understand it, Jax was pretty tore up about what went down, blamed himself for shit getting twisted. Technically, I shouldn't have made a promise without clearing this at the table—"

"But you wanted to alleviate your brother's pains and by extension his sister's too. Seems to me like you have a sensitive streak a mile wide, Hap," Nico teased.

"Bite your tongue, Tiny," he growled.

"Why don't you bite mine's instead?" she whispered throatily. "It's been a while."

"Oh, I can do that shit," he murmured. Bending down Happy took his sweet time lowering his mouth to hers.

Stretching her arms around his neck, Nico's body melted against his as he thoroughly stroked her with his tongue. The warm heat of the sun was nothing compared to the feeling of heat between Nico's thighs as Happy gripped her ass through the confines of her business suit. The fact that they were standing in the middle of the diner's parking lot in broad daylight was not lost on Nico but at the moment she didn't fucking give a shit.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Happy did. Pulling his mouth away from hers slowly but steadily, Nico's dazed eyes looked up in to the now molten eyes of her erstwhile lover. "Damn, I'd like to finish this shit right now, but your cage is too damn small for what I have in mind so I guess we'll have to finish this up tonight." He grinned as Nico frowned at him. "Now come on, let's get back to Charming. I've got some shit I need to do for the Club, so get in your cage and follow me."

Turning to watch him stride towards his own ride, Nico shook her head trying in vain to clear the fog of desire out of her system.

_Damn, the man needs to come with a warning label._

Getting into her car, Nico had to grin as she tossed her bag into the passenger seat. It seemed that whenever she tried to pigeon hole the ornery biker into a slot, he'd up and surprise her. She sure as shit hadn't expected to see a sensitive side of the hardcore biker as he spoke about his family, but she had and regardless of what Happy felt, it had been instrumental in getting Lois to cooperate.

_There are definitely a lot of layers when it comes to Happy Lowman. Maybe by the time I leave Charming, I'll get the pleasure of knowing them all._

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Tuesday, April 12, 2011** _

Watching the pained expression on Jax Teller's face, Nico could tell that the outlaw was deeply upset as he listened to her candid report on the meeting in Lodi.

it seemed that the biker was not alone in the feeling, if the expressions on the faces of his brothers were anything to go by. From her seat at one of the tables in the Clubhouse, Nico watched as the patches—having been called in from working in the bays on various vehicles—were now scattered around the room listening carefully as both she and their SAA shared the Intel they had received regarding Otto's big sister Lois.

"It's not your fault, Jax," Piney said quietly from his favorite stool at the bar. The older biker had stopped in the lot to pick up a couple of bottles of his favorite tequila before heading up to his cabin and was on hand for the report. More than anyone, Piney was well aware of his young brother's propensity for blaming himself for all the bad shit that hit the Club. "Shit, there was no way you could have known that Luann would be targeted and there was no time for you to do anything about it before you went inside."

"Pop, maybe we should have tried to handle shit while the guys were in Stockton," Opie offered. "But—"

"No, we couldn't, brutha," Chibs interrupted. "We had enough on our plates as it was, trying to keep shyte under control while everyone was inside, having to deal with those Russian pieces of shit to get our merch to continue earning, and all while the new Sheriff was in town—even if the bastard hadn't made waves with us then—it woulda hae been too risky."

"I have to agree with Chibs," Clay said as he leaned against the bar. The older biker eyed Happy who was sitting next to his Prez. "You might have been a little hasty, promising Otto's sister that we would clear the situation—"

"I don't think so," Bobby interrupted. "Luann was Otto's old lady. She's done a lot for this Club. She came through with $50K when we needed to front the cash for our other business, she got word to Otto for us when Stahl was threatening Rico so he could protect the Club and besides, she loved Big O. It's only right that we take care of this situation now. Luann was SAMCRO—she was family. This isn't the first time an outsider went after our women, and we avenged _that_ situation," Bobby said pointedly to Clay. "We should do the same for Luann. For Big O's sake."

Noting the slightly pained expression on the shaggy-haired biker, Nico was thoughtful. _There's a story here_. _I'm just not sure what. And who was this other Club woman that the Club avenged?_ she wondered.

"And what does our new Counselor think about this situation?" Clay asked silkily.

Nico carefully eyed the patches. "I don't think it's for me to say. This sounds like a borderline Club-related situation here. I don't want to step on anyone's toes."

"I'd like to here with Nico has to say," Bobby interjected. He looked at her, his eyes imploring her.

Nico sat back in her chair. "If this had been a Syndicate situation, I would deem it absolutely necessary for the situation to be cleaned up. Your Club is a brotherhood, and from what I understand, brothers look out for one another—no matter what." She looked at Happy. 'In my opinion, Happy made the right call. But it's up to all of you whether that happens, or not. I will advise however, that until you come to that decision and the situation has been concluded satisfactory that any attempt to for me to meet with Big Otto be put on hold until I can report to his sister that the matter has been handled." Nico stood up and picked up her briefcase. "I'll leave and let you gentleman get to it."


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. She lets me take them out for a spin, though.**

**A/N** **: First off, many thanks to Almond, fivefivegenie, hannahch, traceyaudette and PadfootCc for your comments on the last couple of chapters, many of which made me holler out loud. Your comments are really encouraging as they let me know that you are really connecting to the characters and the story, so please keep them coming!**

**Now on with the show!**

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Thursday, April 14, 2011** _

_There's nothing quite like a sunny day in Charming_ , was the thought that flittered through Marlowe's mind as she piloted her rig down the surprisingly busy Main Street. It was nearly noon and with a number of delivery trucks dropping off all varieties of products from fresh produce to dry goods and a large number of locals out and about taking care of daily business, Marlowe was forced to take her time maneuvering her ambulance down the street as she vainly looked for a parking spot. Finally spotting an opening as two cars simultaneously pulled out of metered parking right in front of Hanna's Diner, Marlowe quickly jockeyed for position and scooped another driver.

"Pretty good, Marley," Avery, her partner, cackled. Waiving gaily at the tinted windows of the light blue sports car which no doubt contained a disgruntled driver, the boyishly handsome man snickered. "You snooze, you lose."

"Got that right," Marlowe chimed in as she cut the rig's motor. Suddenly narrowing her gray eyes, she smothered a laugh as she recognized the car. Fortunately for the other driver, the car in the parking spot directly in front of the ambulance pulled out allowing the sexy Porsche to secure it.

As the occupant finally emerged from the car, her long wavy dark hair flowing over a tight body encased in a mauve colored wrap dress, a chic blazer with a multi-colored scarf thrown casually over the woman's shoulders and nude heels, Avery Dennison gave a long, low whistle. "Hot damn, I think I just fell in love."

"Down boy!" Marlowe ordered. "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave that one alone."

Avery flashed her a cheeky grin. "Don't tell me you know her? It's my lucky day!"

"Yeah, I know her, not that it's going to help you any," she retorted.

"Hey, don't be a buzzkill. Besides, remember our agreement," Avery held up an index finger. "If I can't press up on your fine ass, no cock blocking is allowed when I bring my "A" game with other women."

Marlowe sighed dramatically and then shrugged her shoulders, running a hand through her caramel colored hair. "All right, but never let it be said that I didn't warn you," she said as she grabbed her beloved backpack to exit the rig.

By this time, Nico Torelli had slammed the door shut on her ride and was in the process of paying for a metered parking ticket when she looked up and spotted the two individuals who had disembarked from the ambulance and had stolen her parking spot and were now ambling towards her.

"Hey, look who we have here," she said as she retrieved her ticket. Opening the passenger door, she placed it in full view on the dashboard and shut the door before facing Jax Teller's old lady. "Well, don't you make a pretty picture," Nico drawled as she eyed Marlowe who was outfitted in her EMT uniform.

It was however, Marlowe's companion who replied, "Why thank you, but I think you look _way_ better."

Flicking off her Gucci sunglasses, Nico took in the tall drink of blond water that was currently posing at Marlowe's side and who was doing his best impression of a muscle flexing demigod.

 _He is pretty, I'll give him that much_ , Nico thought as her eyes cast down his chiseled features, wide shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist and had quickly and correctly sized and measured the package he was carrying between his two big toes.

Taking in the man's cocky attitude, Nico didn't bother to acknowledge Marlowe's companion, and instead turned to face her. "You know that was my spot you just stole," Nico said as she gave Marlowe the hairy eyeball.

"Hey, haven't you heard that you're supposed to give way to public service vehicles?" Marlowe snarked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sure, when the siren is blaring down the fuckin' street," Nico shot back. "I consider stealing another driver's parking spot a punishable offense."

"Uh, hey," Avery interrupted Marlowe before she could respond. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Marlowe rolled her eyes and then shrugged. "Nico, this is Avery my partner. Avery, this here's Nico."

Holding out a hand, Avery grinned as Nico hesitated. "You're not really going to leave me hanging, are you?"

 _Oh, what the hell_ , Nico thought and took the hand offering a strong but gentle grip and watched the flirtatious smile of approval light the man's features at the return of a firm handshake. _He is kind of cute._

"So how do you know my friend here?" Avery asked.

"Nico's a friend of the Club," Marlowe said helpfully. "A very special friend of both my old man _and_ my brother. You do remember them, right?" Marlowe nearly bit her tongue as she watched a hint of panic cross Avery's handsome features.

"Oh, uh yeah, I remember them all right," he muttered as he quickly dropped Nico's hand as if he were suddenly holding a hot poker. "You know, I got some things that I need to take care of during our break." He looked at Marlowe. "Why don't I meet you back here in about an hour?"

Clearing her throat, Marlowe nodded. "Okay, sounds like a plan. I'll catch you later."

"Uh, nice to meet you," Nico called back as the man quickly hurried away without as much as a by your leave. "What the fuck was that about?" she asked chuckling.

"Oh, let's just say that Avery isn't exactly a fan of either Jax or my asshole of a brother," Marlowe grinned. "So how are you settling into small town life?"

"It's a little weird, but I'm finding out that it's not too bad actually," Nico replied. "I live in the 'burbs a few miles outside Reno. This is definitely different from life in the city. People are a bit friendlier here, not so much in a hurry. Back home, eating at a diner wasn't something that I was ever into, but I have to say, I discovered that Hanna's," nodding at the restaurant that was in front of them, "makes a mean breakfast special. I have work to do at UT, but decided to drop by and be bad today before heading over."

"Yeah, Hanna's is pretty good considering it's the only diner in town, which was why Avery and I stopped in for an early lunch. Tell you what," Marlowe said, "since you managed to run him off, why don't you join me? It will give us a chance to talk."

Nico smiled. "Sounds like a plan to me," she quipped.

* * *

Having scored a booth at the back of the restaurant that offered a measure of privacy, the two women sat down and quickly placed their orders—for Marlowe, the roast chicken special with mash potatoes swimming in gravy, while Nico ordered the all-day Breakfast Special of two eggs with pork sausage, hash browns, toast, juice and unlimited coffee.

Now, sipping on one of the two fresh black coffees that the waitress poured before leaving them alone, Marlowe stretched out her long legs under the table as she took a good look at her companion.

It had been a couple of weeks since the counselor had arrived in Charming and from what Jax had told her, Nico had been working hard for the Club.

Already she had made some significant progress in the clearing up of the corporate inner workings of Unser Trucking. According to Kozik, Nico was spending a good portion of her time going through the boxes of paperwork provided by Rosen, Lowen & Associates on the Club's partnership with Unser Trucking, as well as going through much of the company's assets and business portfolio to determine ways in which UT could increase its productivity. Lyla had also confided to her regarding the lawyer's tough work ethic, and how Nico was using her in her efforts to turn the business around, bouncing off ideas and genuinely listening to Lyla's suggestions. It seemed that in the few short weeks she had been in town, Nico had provided much in the way of encouragement to Lyla and had gone as far as advising Jax and Unser to give her more responsibility, suggesting that Lyla look into taking some courses at Stockton Community College.

Now that Marlowe had heard so much about Nico's business style, she realized that this impromptu lunch was a good opportunity to get to know the woman on a more intimate level.

 _Get a load of me now. Gemma would be shitting her pants seeing me step up in my role as an interfering old lady,_ Marlowe thought as she took a sip of her coffee before setting the cup down on its saucer.

 _Time to get to work then_ , she thought as she eyed the confidently dressed woman in front of her.

"So, I gotta say that you're pretty good at the interrogation/lawyer shit," Marlowe started. She watched as Nico raised an eyebrow in askance.

"How so?"

Well, lawyers are supposed to be pretty good at questioning and getting people to talk about things that they weren't likely to give up willingly. I have to say, you managed to get a hell of a lot about me at Gemma's. Funny thing is, I didn't really get to hear a lot about _you_ ," Marlowe said pointedly.

Leaning back against the soft backing of the booth they occupied, Nico inwardly grinned.

_It looks like I got an old lady on the warpath for some info. I guess the least I can do is allay any fears she might have. I get the feeling that she's a lot less likely to bite my head off than Jax's mother._

"So what would you like to know?"

"Well," Marlowe drawled, "there is the old saying that all work and no play makes Jane a dull dog, or some such shit. I know that you're primarily here to work out the Club's issues, but I haven't seen hide or hair of you around the Clubhouse, which might be kinda like slumming for you. So what do you do for fun in Charming?"

 _Oh, I'd say fuckin' your brother is in my top five of recreational activities and that's all the recreation I need, Thank goodness that California King bed fell off the truck. It has proven to be a more than ample playground,_ Nico thought to herself and hoped she wasn't blushing.

"Oh, I pretty much find ways of entertaining myself at home," Nico said airily.

 _I bet you have_ , Marlowe thought although her expression never changed. _Keeping my ear close to the ground via Ima has been pretty helpful in dropping the Intel that Hap's ass has been MIA from the Clubhouse quite a bit lately_.

And it was a concern.

Marlowe wasn't one to harass her family—unless it was warranted. If there was one thing her brother wouldn't like it was her digging into his shit and she couldn't say that she blamed him. Of course the shoe was always on the other fuckin' foot when it came to what _she_ was doing. Marlowe knew she couldn't keep Happy out of her shit even if she tried. But knowing what a hard case her brother was, Marlowe figured that keeping her concerns about his personal life to herself would keep things as peaceable as they could be between them. After all, Tía would have her fuckin' head on a platter if she let her _mijo_ get involved into some shit, especially with a stereotypical Italian mafia princess that was a high falutin', territorial type of woman that Nico Torelli could _possibly_ be. It was so providential that Marlowe had run into her so casually and out of the Club's view as it was a good opportunity to get a read on this woman and to see just what her interest was in Happy.

_If she's just looking to get her wild thing on with a dirty biker, that's all well and good. I wouldn't hold it against her. But it's not like Hap is anything like my old man—he's not a gentleman biker in any way, shape or form. If he really is pushing up on Nico, I would think that Hap would scare her ass silly with his hedonistic ways. Besides, he's not at all likely to treat her like the princess she is likely to be, so I would have thought that she'd steer clear of him after the first time he hit her shit. But it looks like Nico Torelli is a tough bitch if she can put up with my brother._

As their waitress approached their table and served them their meals, Marlowe came to a sudden decision. Picking up her fork, she dug into her food for a few minutes before she decided to speak. "That's all well and good," she said "but it seems to me that you shouldn't have to spend all your time looking at your four walls. Tell me, you got any plans this Friday night?"

Nico eyed her speculatively. With Happy being out of town the last week and running around on Club business the last few days, they hadn't had an opportunity to hook up. But the outlaw made a point of staying that if he was around on Friday night he'd swing by for some basic, no holds barred fucking, but she hadn't heard from him so there might be a possibility of her flying solo that night. "No definite plans. Why?" She countered.

"'Cause I want you to come over, that's why. The last couple of months Lyla and I have been having our own version of 'church,'" Marlowe said with a crafty smile. "Lyla and I allow Grandma to exercise her right and duty to have a little me time with our kids while we get our freak on with some good food and drink. Whaddya say? Wanna hang out with a couple of old ladies? I can guarantee you a damn good time."

Cocking her head to the side, Nico eyed Marlowe's genuine smile. _It does sound like fun and it would be interesting to have the opportunity to get to know Marlowe and Lyla without all of the Club around_ , Nico thought with a growing interest. _Especially if I could learn a little more about her fine ass brother from her point of view._

"Okay," she nodded her head. "Count me in."

* * *

_**Friday, April 15, 2011** _

_Jax and Marlowe have a nice cozy home_ , Nico thought to herself as she relaxed in the Teller-Guthrie living room. It wasn't as large as Gemma and Clay's place, but it was comfortable and lived in.

It had been nearly two hours since Nico had arrived and she had not come empty handed. The bottle of Jack, along with a cheesecake she had picked up at the local bakery was her contribution to the festivities and both offerings had been eagerly accepted and even now, Nico sipped on her second shot of whiskey.

Albeit a salty sailor of the highest degree, Nico discovered that Marlowe was a very talented cook. Preparing one of her aunt's favorite Cuban dishes, the three women had sat back at the dining room table and had eaten their fill, in between enjoying light-hearted conversation concerning children and work before retiring to the living room to enjoy liquor and dessert.

Now that they were relaxing comfortably, Nico thought it would be a good time to learn a little more about the two women, who despite their different backgrounds, had seemed to form a genuine friendship.

"So did you ever think you'd end up as a biker's old lady?" Nico said companionably as she crossed her legs underneath her from her corner of the sofa.

"Well, it wasn't exactly on my Bucket List," Marlowe quipped as she threw back a shot of Jack. "To be honest, I never thought I'd end up with _anybody_ , never mind someone like Jax. I've been a rolling stone pretty much all of my adult life, and while I wouldn't go as far as to say that as a sailor I had a guy in every port…" Marlowe trailed off with a sly grin, "I will say that I was never lacking in when it came to company of the manly kind."

Sitting on the opposite end of the couch with Nico, Lyla rolled her eyes comically. "Meanwhile, I got _way_ too much dick _and_ pussy action," she quipped as her two companions chuckled.

Although Lyla was laughing, looking into her eyes, Nico was able to discern the shred of shame that echoed within them. Having started doing her investigation and research into what went into running a successful adult entertain production company, Nico was starting to see the really dirty side of the porn business and looking into Lyla's eyes, could empathize with the pain that she saw reflected within them. "I've got to say that had to be some pretty hard shit to do," Nico said with sympathy. "If you don't mind me asking, how exactly—" she hesitated.

"Did I fall into porn?" Lyla replied as Nico nodded. Taking a deep breath and a sip of her drink, she spoke quietly. "It's not exactly what I had in mind to do after high school, that's for sure." She chuckled wryly with a shrug. "I was on the fast track to college, even managed to get a scholarship, if you can believe that. I knew I wanted some sort of business degree and accounting seemed as good as any, but getting knocked kind of derailed those plans. It wasn't an easy pregnancy. I ended up missing a lot of classes and couldn't keep my GPA up. Of course, I lost my scholarship. Soon after that Piper's father decided he didn't want to be a dad anymore and left, so shit went from bad to worse really quickly."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Lyla," Nico said sympathetically. Working in the Family business, she had seen plenty of young girls dealing with circumstances similar to Lyla's and Nico knew pretty much how the story went. She tried to distance herself from it by looking at it from a business perspective, but young women just like Lyla were a hot commodity in Reno where legal prostitution was a lucrative part of her father's empire.

"I tried making ends meet with whatever crappy job I could get, but with a baby I was barely making it. Then one day, a talent scout approached me and said he could make me a star." Lyla laughed, but to Nico's ears, it was a bitter sound. "I was desperate and naïve so of course I jumped at the offer only to find out later that it involved porn. I was set to bail on the douchebag, but Luann Delaney, the owner of the studio, spotted me and told me how I could make a lot of money while having a great time. She had done it, made tons of cash and was now calling the shots behind the camera. Again, me young and stupid, decided I'd be a fool if I didn't give it a try," she explained, her eyes avoiding making contact with Nico's.

 _How could a woman like Nico possibly understand somebody like me now that she knows the truth_ , Lyla thought dismally.

Feeling the soft touch of a hand on her arm, Lyla looked up to look into soft blue eyes that seemed to radiate warmth and compassion. "Lyla, as a woman and a mother, I know that we sometimes have hard choices to make. I myself straddle a very fine line between what's legit and what's not. It is truly a man's world and as women and mothers, we get judged harshly for the same behavior men get away with all the time. Be proud of the journey that got you and your son where you are today. I admire you for doing what needed to be done and now you've moved on to bigger and better things. I truly hope that you find pride in that," she said with compassion.

Blinking back tears at the unexpected sympathy and kindness Nico offered, Lyla shrugged her slight shoulders. "Porn was just one in a series of bad choices I've made in my life. Doing that kind of work, you open yourself up to all kinds of bad shit and it can be very degrading. For years, I had no way of coping other than to drown my sorrows in drugs. Only God knows where I would be if it wasn't for my old man and Marlowe."

"Hey, all I did was give you a little bit in the way of redirection—you did all the hard work," Marlowe said positively.

"I know, and I am proud of that. It's just that—"Lyla hesitated.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Nico prodded gently.

"It's just that I know that no matter what I accomplish now, one day my past is going to come back to haunt me," Lyla said quietly. "One day, my sons are going to have that one friend who is going to play some movie from their father's hidden stash of porn and," Lyla's bottom lip trembled, "They're going to see who I really am."

"Nonsense," Nico scoffed as she reached over to squeeze Lyla's hand gently. "It's unlikely to happen, but even if it does, that is not who you really are, especially not to your children."

"Nico's right," Marlowe said. "Beside, you and the kids are under the Club's protection and we both know what that means in this town." She wanted to say that it would be like assisted suicide for anyone who decided to out her to her children like that, but didn't. Nico may be working with the Club now, but she was still an outsider and Marlowe knew better than to discuss SAMCRO family business with outsiders present.

"That's right. You've got that big ol' mountain of a man, who I can tell loves you to pieces, and his brothers watching your back. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Lyla. And because you don't, you might want to consider telling them yourself," Nico advised.

"Are you serious?" both Marlowe and Lyla said in unison.

"Of course I am," Nico replied. "I'm not saying do it right now, but it will be better for everyone if you and Opie get to control the narrative. Believe me, I know. My sisters grew up blissfully ignorant of what it was that our father truly did for a living. It was a slap in the face for them when he was arrested and ended up in prison. They still try to pretend they don't know, but that's another issue altogether. Me, I've known the truth since I was 12 years old."

"Twelve?" Lyla blanched. "That is way too young. My boys are both 10 and Ellie is 11."

"Well, I was a precocious child," Nico assured her. "Always at my father's heel, picking up hints here and there. Papa realized this and one day, took me aside and told me the truth. It was the PG-version of the truth, but it was still the truth and, believe me, it didn't diminish him in my eyes one bit. He was and still is my knight in shining armor."

"My mother was a stripper and a junkie and did absolutely nothing to hide either from me," Marlowe started, somewhat surprised she had decided to discuss Shannon. "Sometimes I wish she had. That she had loved me enough to protect me from the consequences of the bad choices _she_ had made. She never did, but she also never redeemed herself. You have, Lyla. You have turned your life around. Nico's right. Prepare your kids for the truth. They will be stronger for it."

Lyla got up to hug Marlowe. "I am so glad you are my friend, Marley."

Returning to the couch to hug Nico as well, Lyla pulled back and smiled ruefully. "Damn, you're pretty good at counseling more than just the Club on business."

"Hey, the first one's a freebie, but I do charge by the hour," Nico joked. Reaching over, she grabbed the bottle of Jack from the coffee table. "Now enough of all this maudlin shit," she announced as she refilled their glasses. "The menfolk are at the Clubhouse, and your kids are driving your in-law crazy—"

"Whoa, Nelly! _In-law_?! Like, hell's no!" Marlowe exclaimed almost horrified.

"She's as good as," Nico countered, "But far be it for me to argue about your delusions. Ain't nobody here but us chickens, so let's get our drink on and y'all can entertain me by talking about your old men and the size of their junk!" Nico crowed as the two women burst out laughing.

"Shit, I can do that! I'm a proud momma." Marlowe grabbed her glass to knock back a healthy gulp. "My baby's got an anaconda hiding in his baggy jeans and God bless him, he sure knows how to use it. What about yours, Ly?"

The ex-porn star cackled as she sipped her drink. "Well, I have seen my fair share of dick in my day so take it from me when I say my Ope's got one for the record books!" Lyla claimed before turning to Nico. "So," she drawled, "this might be awkward for Marley, but I for one have always wondered what kind of equipment Happy is working with—"

Nico put her drink on the table and gave Lyla a dead-eyed stare. "And what makes you think that I would know that?"

"Girl, please," Marlowe retorted. "You may be a professional, blah blah blah and all that happy shit, but you are still a woman and you cannot sit there and tell me with a straight face that you ain't been on that pole my brother calls a dick. Besides, I saw the way you two were arguing at Gemma's dinner table."

"Uh huh," Lyla agreed almost with an evil glee and a singsong voice. "And everybody knows that where's there's fightin'—"

"—there's fuckin'," Marlowe concluded triumphantly. "And I spent part of that night listening to Tig and Kozik commiserating that they were sure Happy had closed escrow on your ass, they just couldn't figure out when."

"Just because a couple of gossips are talking shit doesn't mean it's true," Nico tried to evade.

"Oh, believe me, I know, but I didn't serve Uncle Sam faithfully for ten years without learning a thing or seventy. I know how to assess a situation and you and Hap there definitely have a sitch going on," Marlowe declared as Lyla giggled. "First of all, look at you. Stripped of all your intimidating lawyer gear, you are drop dead gorgeous and I have never known my brother to turn his nose up at a pair of knockers like yours," she stated matter of fact, causing a slightly shocked Nico and Lyla to laugh raucously. "Take me out of the picture and I know my old man would be first in line to nail ya _if_ Hap hadn't already beat him to it, which he has."

"What makes you so sure he has?" Nico managed to ask through her laughter.

"Because my brother may be a lot of things, but a gentleman he is not. Him insisting on taking you home after dinner at Gemma's when there was a Clubhouse full of skanks lining up to jump on his dick was a HUGE red flag. He was definitely planning on getting a 'lil sum sum at the end of that ride back to your place." Marlowe watched as Nico's face turned a bright shade of pink. "So stop playing coy and fess up."

"That's right," Lyla exclaimed. "We want to hear all the dirty deets, especially since when it comes to dick size, Ima tends to exaggerate a bit—"

"And who the fuck is Ima?" Nico asked irritably.

Snorting with laughter, Marlowe replied, "Just one of Lyla's former co-workers."

"She's a porn star?"

"Yeah, one of many that hang around the Clubhouse," Lyla said smiling as she noted Nico's affronted expression. "She's quite harmless, though."

"Humph, I'll bet," Nico replied snarkily.

Marlowe hooted with laughter and came up for air. "Forget Ima. We were talking about old man meat," and watched as Nico flushed bright pink. Again.

"Marlowe, I don't _have_ an old man."

"Nico, please, you have clearly been busted so just give it up," Lyla started.

"We've wined you and dined you and now it's time for you to dish up some dessert, so come on," Marlowe concluded.

Seeing that neither woman would brook any denial, Nico sighed heavily and then cocked her head to the side. _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , she thought, _since I did bring up the conversation, only purely to ease up the subject matter_. _At least I don't have to tell them about our first meeting at Jury's. I was such a total slag._

Reaching for the bottle of liquor for a little more Dutch courage, Nico filled her shot glass to the brim and knocked it back. "Well," Nico said coyly. "I'm sure you girls have seen an iron spike before, right?"

"Oh. My. God!" Lyla breathed as she fanned herself. "Go on, girl!"

"Eh, then again, maybe not," Marlowe said as she squinted her eyes. "The thought of exploring my brother's sex life in depth is making me queasy." She paused then shrugged her shoulders. "Whew! It passed. Go on, spill it!"

As Nico started to speak to the muffled cackles and screams of her two companions, the mafia diva sat back to extol the virtues of the man who was currently sharing her bed. Having never had that type of relationship with her own sisters to boldly discuss their sexual exploits with their husbands, Nico couldn't help but feel like she was experiencing a part of her womanhood that she had never had before. It felt fun and quite normal.

For Marlowe, however, as fun as it was seeing the mob lawyer let her hair down, she found that the evening was having some unexpected benefits.

Hearing as she addressed Lyla frankly and without judgment on her past, it was becoming clear that Nico Torelli was no shrinking violet and was unlikely to bat an eye at the seedier and unpleasant side of a biker community existing just outside of the law. She was quickly proving herself capable of handling her shit among the Club.

And with a certain outlaw SAA.

* * *

"So," Nico drawled, "I'm curious. How did a military career woman end up with an outlaw biker?" She watched as Marlowe leaned back in her armchair crossing her legs at the ankles and resting her bare feet on the coffee table.

"It wasn't easy," she replied with a grin. "He wasn't exactly a free man at the time." Nico raised her eyebrows as Lyla snickered under her breath as she continued to nurse her drink.

"Oh no," Nico moaned comically. "Don't tell me you're a man-stealing home wrecker, girl. I'd be truly disappointed."

"Nah, that ain't my shtick. Although, I would say that in this instance, I kind of split hairs. Technically I didn't get with Jax until he had made up his mind to ditch the bitch he was with. He just hadn't lowered the boom on her ass before he tapped mine," Marlowe grinned.

"Yeah, well, doing it _after_ Tara caught his naked ass in your bed was more than a little sticky," Lyla put in with an innocent smile.

"Okay, that shit was so not my fault," Marlowe exclaimed. "What the fuck was I supposed to do when Gem brought the crazy bitch to my door knowing full well her son was in my bed? I cannot be held responsible for how shit—and Tara—went down."

"Oh, this sounds way too interesting," Nico chuckled. "I think I'm going to need full disclosure."

With a dramatic sigh, Marlowe with much hand gesturing and facial expressions laid out the entirety of the sordid tale to much snickering and hooting laughter.

"Wait a minute," Nico sniggered as she reached for the bottle on the table for another shot. "His mother made you breakfast after you took down the old girlfriend? Gemma may be a tough nut to crack, but I gotta say, I think I like her style. It's a little borderline crazy, but still."

"Yeah, well, not everything is easy peasy, lemon squeezy when it comes to the Club matriarch. She can get real pissy about shit when things don't go quite her way," Marlowe said. "Consider this a warning."

"Something tells me that with you around she is pissy most of the time," Nico jeered.

Marlowe smirked. "I do my best," she said agreeably. "Don't get me wrong. I don't hate her. I respect what she's about, but Gemma needs to learn that she can't have her way all the fuckin' time. She does have over 30 years of experience being an old lady, though. She's not perfect, but I have to admit she's taught me some stuff too. Being with Jax has definitely been a learning process for both Gemma and me."

"Well, don't go giving her credit just yet," Lyla quipped. "Her interfering is only bound to get worse once you decide to start dropping some babies on your old man," she concluded thoughtfully.

Marlowe choked on her drink, wiping sudden tears from her eyes. "Bitch, please! Don't even say that shit out loud."

"Why not? You don't want kids?" Nico asked.

"It's not that I don't want any. I already have Abel, and he's a joy and a handful all by himself," Marlowe smiled at the thought of her baby boy whose grandmother would return home later that evening. "For a really long time I honestly believed that I just wasn't mother material. I still have my moments of doubt, so it's safe to say that I have issues I need to work out before I go down that road. Besides, I've got plenty of time. The expiration date on my ovaries is still a way's away. How about you?"

"How about me, _what_?" Nico said derisively.

"Do _you_ want any more kids? I know you have a teenage son."

Nico sighed. "For me, it's not really a question of want to. I can't. Not unless I get the ol' tubes untied."

"Really? Aren't you kind of young to have done that?" Lyla questioned.

"Yeah, but when your then current baby daddy was too busy sticking it to whores and getting high, the idea of churning out another child for him pretty much lost its appeal," Nico explained.

"I'm sorry," Marlowe commiserated.

"I'm not." Nico watched the surprise of other women and shrugged her shoulders. "I married very young and it definitely wasn't a love match. More like an arranged marriage and at first, I tried to do my duty as a good Italian daughter and wife, mostly just to shut my mother up. But theonly good to come out of that mistake was my son Tonio, so when Rocco starting looking to satisfy his needs outside of our bedroom, I wasn't mad. He knew _I knew_ he was creeping out on me, but as long as he kept that shit on the down low, it was a situation that suited us both until it no longer did. Once my son headed for boarding school, I realized I had nothing holding me to this man or our sham of a marriage anymore. I did the unthinkable—in my family, anyway—and got a divorce."

"Good for you," Lyla said.

"Hindsight is definitely 20/20 and my only regret is not getting out sooner. After 16 years in a loveless marriage, it feels really fuckin' nice to have the freedom of not having to answer to anyone—except my family, which is how I ended up in Charming," Nico explained. "Being in a separate state from my nearest and dearest has done wonders for my stress levels."

"And your sex life too?" Marlowe asked slyly. "So all jokes aside, what's the story between you and my brother?"

Nico gazed lazily at her hostess. Although Marlowe had imbibed just as much as she did, if not more, it was as if suddenly the old lady had completely dismissed the alcoholic haze and had become instantly sober.

While Nico was pretty good at holding her own, it had been a while since she had let her hair down completely so later on she would have to forgive herself for being so open with her feelings when she normally would have kept her cards close to her chest.

"He is fucking dreamy, ain't he?" She sighed a little as she leaned her head back against the soft supple leather of the sofa.

"Really? That wouldn't have been my first thought," Lyla opined. "More like dangerous, crazy, terrifying—"

"Sexy, intelligent, ruthless, protective," Nico murmured.

"Shit, girl. You got it bad, don'tcha?" Marlowe teased playfully as she carefully analyzed the woman sitting in front of her.

Realizing that she had been a little too free with her thoughts, Nico tried to backpedal. "Oh please, we're just having a good time. It's not like I'm looking to drag his ass down the aisle."

"Besides, you're a little too 'tiny' to pull off that maneuver," Lyla teased.

"Ohhh!" Marlowe howled. "You notice that too, huh?" she said to Lyla who nodded enthusiastically.

"Bitches—I can call you 'bitches', right? I feel like we've bonded here enough that I can—don't even go there with me," Nico laughed as the other two women agreed that they sure had bonded. "I'm just saying that Happy isn't exactly the 'take him home to mama'-type."

"You've got that right," Marlowe snorted and, in an attempt of using reverse psychology, said, "I guess that nixes you taking him home with ya. I love my brother but he's a pretty intense package. It would take an incredibly strong and stubborn woman to one, tame his ass and two, to pit herself against her family to be with a man like him."

 _Apparently, not even a tough cookie like Nico is immune to mind games_ , Marlowe smirked as she noted the flicker of irritation flit across Nico's features. _Yup, she's got it bad_.

"Bullshit!" Nico retorted. "I've lived by the expectations of others for far too long. Trust me, if I wanted a man like Hap by my side, there would be nothing or no one that could stop me, _especially_ not my mother."

Feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed, Nico abruptly changed the subject. "So, where can one find a decent Italian food market around here?"

* * *

Deciding to allow Nico off the hook for the moment, Marlowe fell in step with the conversation all the while simultaneously sifting through all of her recently accumulated knowledge, believing that what she had suspected about the relationship between her brother and the Club's new counsel now had some basis in fact.

Between the scuttlebutt that she had managed to get out of a couple of the Club members, Kozik and Bobby in particular, with Filthy Phil and Ratboy filling in some deets too, it would seem that her brother had been showing a marked preference for the woman who he alternately spent time sassing and fuckin' for the last few weeks since she arrived in Charming.

 _And possibly even beforehand if the buzzing of my sixth sense is anything to go by_ , as Marlowe reconsidered the assistance that her brother had previously rendered to Nico's organization, the Syndicate, several months ago.

Having the opportunity to pry some information out of Nico had been imperative. The background information about her relationship history Nico had provided had been important and very enlightening, to say the least. Having never had a serious relationship with anyone other than her old man, Marlowe was wily enough to realize that regardless of your background, bad relationship baggage comes in all forms. She herself had found that her own relationship with Jax had been hindered at times with her personal feelings of worthlessness due to her relationship with her mother, her sufferings at the hands of a pedophile and being stripped of her rating and freedom while in service to her country, not to mention her own twisted relationship with her brother and would-be father. All those things played a part in getting in between her and Jax and it had taken her time to shelve a lot of that shit.

So Marlowe knew that learning about Nico's issues would be a good indicator to see whether the savvy counsel was only interested in Happy for some dick action or if she would be open into developing something more.

For Marlowe Guthrie was determined that something needed to happen for one Happy Lowman.

 _Because his old ass doesn't know what is best for him_ , Marlowe thought as she got up to retrieve some water for herself, leaving Lyla and Nico chatting away about some designer dress sample sale in Stockton Lyla had heard about.

Taking her time as she retrieved a glass and fiddled around with the ice maker, Marlowe knew that the tough minded lawyer from Reno would had been extremely nervous if she had a clue about Marlowe's plans concerning herself.

Marlowe had come to a decision about her grumpy biker of a brother. The outlaw was in trouble and he didn't even know it. Happy's fate had pretty much been sealed when her old man had finally confided in her about her brother's plans for the future.

A couple of months ago after putting down some epic shit on her, her old man had decided to use the afterglow to gently feel her out to see what she thought of the possibility of Happy leaving Charming after everything had been squared away with the Club.

Marlowe hadn't taken it well at all. She was finally in a place in her life where she was at peace with her brother and in a good place mentally and emotionally. Had the lamps in their room had been lit, her face would have betrayed to her old man instantly that she was not having this shit. In the darkness of the room, however, she had managed to downplay her initial feelings of alarm and panic. She had done well and not overplayed her hand by displaying some unhappiness of the situation and at Jax's urging had agreed not to broach the subject with her brother.

But it had not stopped her from plotting on how to keep her brother exactly where he fucking belonged, and if it hadn't been for the delicate plans that her old man was working on to get the Club on the road to legitimate business and away from the outlaw life, Marlowe would have seriously considered approaching Gemma for some well needed old lady advice on keeping old bikers put where she damn well wanted them.

But with the arrival of Nico Torelli in Charming, it seemed that an opportunity was presenting itself, one that initially seemed unlikely to happen, but after tonight, it appeared that there were some possibilities.

From what information she been able to gather, it would seem that both Happy and Nico were seriously attracted to one another. Marlowe hadn't been sure however, how deeply into each other they were.

Over the last two weeks, news from one half of the Gossip Girls indicated that while Happy was hard at work—in the garage and taking care of Club business—it seemed that he was spending a lot of late nights away from the Clubhouse, only to be seen returning in the early hours of the morning, usually wearing a big ass grin on his face.

While that was interesting, having been on the lot herself a time or two in the same period, Marlowe had noticed that Happy was still making ample use of the croweaters on the lot as well.

_That's my brother. No pussy is too bad or good to pass up._

It would seem, however, that while Happy was happy sampling the available pussy buffet, he wasn't inclined to share Nico with anyone else.

 _Well if he likes it, then he should put a crow on that shit_ , Marlowe thought irritably as she considered the ass backwards world of life in an MC—bikers who were free to get with whomever they wanted while their old ladies pussies were in permanent lockdown.

 _And he don't even own Nico's shit_ , Marlowe muttered as she grabbed a bowl and decided to make some microwave popcorn.

As the popcorn popped cheerfully, Marlowe focused on the problem at hand, which was figuring out exactly where Happy's mind lay with regard to Nico. Her brother was well-known amongst his brothers as a hardcore bachelor, had never taken or had been interested in settling down with an old lady. In fact, as far as she could recall, the only woman her brother had been hooking up on the regular was her own mother, and that was only for two years until he had removed her from her mother's poor care and put her under Amelia's guardianship, after which Happy rarely bothered Sharon Guthrie attain.

Getting the info out of Happy would be like getting blood from a stone. Not at all interested in getting in touch with his feminine side, getting her brother to admit that he had any deeper feelings for Nico other than her being a conveniently willing fuck buddy would probably be next to impossible.

The secondary issue she could foresee—other than the stubborn tenacity that both parties seem to share in spades—was that Nico was in town only until the Fall and would then return to Reno. The woman definitely had a full life as a lawyer for her own organization and Marlowe realized that the likelihood of her being willing to invest in a long distance relationship with an ornery biker while not totally implausible, it would have it share of risk and difficulty.

But with her own admission, Nico Torelli was a lot more interested in Happy than she had initially let on and as much as she loved her brother, Marlowe realized that she wanted the same happy, and stable life for him that she now enjoyed with Jax. Marlowe knew that if it meant that she had to make the sacrifice of losing him to the Indian Hills charter so that he could get some permanent happiness with a woman like Nico Torelli, then as much as she loved him, she would be willing to let him go.

_But first I really need to see whether these two are about more than just bumping and grinding and the only way I can do that is by throwing their asses together as much as I can to get a better read on them and to hopefully get the two of them looking at each other as less than a sexfest and a lot more like a real, romantic relationship._

So it was with a new plan of attack that Marlowe entered into the living room with a bowl of heaping popcorn.

_Watch out Mother Gemma. You're not the only old lady who can manipulate some shit!_


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

 

* * *

_**Saturday, April 16, 2011** _

At first Nico thought it was an earthquake.

As her upper body rocked slightly at first and then became more insistent, when the tremors of her upper body finally made it to her head, Nico let out a long, low moan of agony. The noise almost sounded otherworldly and at first Nico was positive that the strange wailing hadn't emanated from her person. But as the rocking of her shoulder commenced again, it took another minute before Nico was forced to crack one eye open into a narrow slit. As the bright morning sun from the patio doors off the living room beamed its unforgiving rays into her eye, she felt the pain of a slamming hangover pierce her skull and she let out another long wail, the sound something between a screeching coyote and a mating call of a moose.

"Oh Gawd," she moaned pitifully as she managed to bring up one of her arms—she wasn't sure which one—to block her face from the sun. "It's a damn earthquake. I'm going to die! Why the hell did I come to California?!"

As the tremors started once again, Nico knew she needed to get up and probably drag her ass under a table to save herself from the quake, but she then realized that death by earthquake was probably more preferable than death by hangover.

That is until the earthquake _spoke_.

 _Loudly_.

"Hi! Are you wake?!"

Struggling to remove her arm from her face and this time managing to crack both eyes open, it took a moment for Nico's vision to focus. When it finally did, she saw a pair of inquisitive bright blue eyes were staring back at her.

Abel Teller was standing by her side wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of Superman pull ups. His shoulder length blond hair was in a bunch of riotous curls that framed a sweet baby face.

"Uh," Nico cleared her throat several times and managed to get her voice into a raspy croak "Hi there, bud."

"I'm not 'bud'; I'm Abel," the little boy said rather importantly. "What you doing on the couch? Are you sick?"

It took a moment for Nico to form an answer. "My head hurts a little, but I'm fine," Nico lied. "I was taking a little nap. I guess everybody else is sleeping, huh, little man?"

Abel nodded, his hair flopping in his face. "I waked up 'cause I'm hungry." He eyed her. "I 'member you. You was at Grandma's house."

"That's right. I'm Nico," she replied. Gingerly pulling herself into a sitting position, Nico slowly swung her legs over the side of the couch.

_Shit, I think the room is spinning._

Nico felt a little tug on her shirt sleeve and looked down at the little boy.

"I'm hungry," he repeated. "Can you make me some cereal?" he asked plaintively. "Please?"

The absolute last thing Nico wanted to do was to drag her ass off the couch, but looking down at the sad blue puppy dog eyes tugged at her motherly instincts. When a secondary thought occurred that she might be able to scarce up a pot of coffee and some desperately needed drugs to kill her hangover, Nico decided to have mercy on the little tyke and herself.

"Okay, sure, Abel," she croaked again. "Let's see what we can find," as she slowly started to lift herself up from the couch.

"You sound like Unca Happy," was the little boy's reply.

"What?" Nico exclaimed, her butt suddenly hitting the soft couch again as she gave the little boy the hairy eyeball.

"You sound like my Daddy's brother," Abel giggled. "You don't sound like a girl."

"Thanks a lot, kid," she mumbled before once again attempting to get to her feet and finally managing it. The room swayed first to the left and then the right before she got her bearings.

_Shit, I really tied one on last night!_

When Abel placed his small hand in hers, Nico took a couple of swallows praying that her suddenly queasy stomach obeyed her internal command to hold onto her shit.

_I don't think Marlowe would like me hurling on her kid._

Nico then took several very small steps towards the kitchen. It felt like she was crossing a desert and it seemed like forever before she finally felt her bare feet hit the surprisingly chilly linoleum floor.

"Shit," she muttered as the icy chill sent a shiver throughout her body.

"Don't say 'shit'," Abel advised in a solemn tone as he looked up at her. "Arlo wouldn't like it."

"Then let's not tell her," Nico muttered as she made her way to the kitchen cabinets. "Now let see if I can find the cereal."

Fortunately for her, Abel was a smart little kid and quite knowledgeable about where everything was located. After a few minutes of following his directions, Nico had managed to pull out a box of Cheerios, a bowl, a spoon and milk and set the boy up with his breakfast, before going on a hunt for coffee. Ten minutes later, Nico was finally sipping on a large mug of strong black coffee and had been fortunate enough to find a bottle of aspirin of which she popped four of the pills for good measure. She sat across from the little boy who was making a little bit of a mess as he happily slurped up his breakfast, while she sat with her back and side away from the dining room window in a vain attempt to block the sun's rays from its slow medieval-like torture of her awesome headache.

So intent on finishing her mug of coffee so that she could get another refill, Nico never heard the foot falls of another person as they entered into the kitchen, so when they spoke it was quite a surprise, but nothing at all compared to the visual.

"Well, looks like somebody's up and eating breakfast without me!"

"Hi Daddy!" Abel said as he turned his head to greet his father.

Later on, Nico would forgive herself for her response. After all, any red blooded American woman couldn't be faulted for what happened next. Her mouth literally gaped open. She just couldn't help it. She just wasn't prepared.

Standing at the threshold of the kitchen, Jackson Teller stood in all of his glory, sexy, bearded and scruffy looking, his normally perfectly slicked back hair now tousled and sticking up in unruly waves from his head. Wearing nothing but a pair of low riding gray boxers and bare feet, his upper body was stunning in its form. His muscled left pectoral was decorated with a tattoo of his son's name in bold script, which flowed right into a flawlessly tapered and incredible six pack. The only disfiguring marks that marred that body of perfection were the three, long pink scars below his pecs, most likely from the attack he received while in prison.

_Damn, Marlowe gets to wake up to this every morning? Lucky biatch!_

"Morning Nico. I heard you tied one on last night." Jax's smirk barely held his amusement in check as he took in the wide eyed stare of his son's companion. "Are you okay, Counselor?"

Nico found that she was somewhat incoherent, a by-product of a garbled and significantly impaired brain as she tried to answer the question. "If your old lady ever leaves your ass, I got dibs," she muttered under her breath.

"Well, I'll be sure to let her know." Jax watched as the woman sitting in front of him cringed. "Let me guess—you didn't mean to say that out loud, huh?" His shoulders started to quake with silent laughter as Nico's face turned a bright shade of red. "Don't worry darlin'. I won't' dime you out. After all, I still need you to fix my Club and I'd hate for my old lady to have to hurt you. She can do some wicked shit with her KA-BAR."

Wanting to slap herself, Nico took another sip of her coffee. "Where's Marlowe and Lyla?"

"My old lady's still snoozing, but Lyla went home last night. My Mom brought the kids by and ended up taking them all home."

"Your mom was here," Nico said in confusion. "I don't remember that."

"Well, I think you might have been passed out at the time."

"Your mother saw me like this?" she cringed. _What a great second impression._

"Afraid so. Apparently Marley couldn't wake you up, so she took your keys and decided to let you sleep it off."

_Shit. How fucking embarrassing._

Having remained on the outside of the conversation, Abel tugged on his father's boxers. "Daddy, Miss Nico sounds just like Unca Happy," he said importantly.

"Yes, she does." Jax tried to smother a laugh and failed miserably.

"Really nice, laughing at my misery, Prez," Nico grumbled. "You any relation to my little brother?"

"No, but I promise not to dime you out to him." Jax grinned and reaching down, he picked up Abel and tossed him high in the air, eliciting a burst of giggles and laugher. "Maybe I'd better give you a minute to yourself, make sure the kid here is dry and throw on a little something while you get a second cup of Joe," he threw over his shoulder as he exited the kitchen.

"Uh, yeah, you do that," she rasped.

* * *

_**Sunday—April 17, 2011** _

There was absolutely no doubt that Happy Lowman thoroughly enjoyed his position as the mother charter's enforcer. Having spent years building a reputation as a skilled interrogator and assassin, Happy liked knowing that he was the go-to patch who was a problem solver. His dedication to his Club, to his family had earned him the right to be called an Unholy One and it had been good to be able to put his skills to use on behalf of his brothers once again.

With the Las Vegas Charter having a need for specialized services on a highly sensitive matter, its President, Mason "Mace" Lee had had reached out to Jax Teller requesting SAMCRO's urgent assistance for the only patch that could solve the problem.

Instead of helping SAMCRO with the transfer of the Cartel's next shipment to Romeo, Jax had tasked him to handle the breaking situation. Happy had made his way to Nevada to provide assistance and had spent several days working to get the job squared away.

With a rat discovered within the Las Vegas Charter, it was imperative to neutralize the situation before it could be investigated, raided and summarily gutted by the Feds, the possibility of heavy jail sentences being the ultimate ending.

Mace had been grateful that Happy was able to resolve the situation so quickly and quietly. Dealing with faithless bitches was the SAA's expertise and the discovery of a rat would have far reaching consequences for the Charter and the Club as a whole. With the rat in the Club's custody, it had taken several days for Happy to extract information necessary from one Larry "Junior" Jensen—specifically all of the info that the rat had shared. Junior, a new patch for only two years, had been busted in a drug bust and had been turned. Facing jail time, the faithless bitch was being pressured to provide Intel to the DEA of the Charter's drug trade. He was discovered reporting to his DEA handler on a daily "check-in" call, stupidly doing so outside of the clubhouse.

Taking his time and using excruciating methods of torture, Happy not only retrieved the important Intel, but then proceeded to provide much needed advice to the Vegas Prez. Telling Mace that they should cease and desist the drug trade until further notice, Happy was surprised when he was met with resistance. Seeing that they were intent with continuing business as usual, Happy insisted that if they were going to continue selling meth that at the very least they should immediately change their operational procedures to avoid the Club being questioned and arrested for drug possession and distribution.

With Happy having done his job, Junior wouldn't be talking to the DEA—or anyone else ever again, and the Vegas Charter would be safe for the time being. In appreciation, Mace had thrown a huge weekend party to end all parties. Food, booze and women were free flowing and the brothers had shown Happy much love and, once again, Mace had reiterated his offer for Happy to have a seat at his table.

"Hap, we need someone like you with us. Granted, I know making the move from the mother charter to Vegas might seem like downgrading to some," Mace urged, "but we have a lot of perks here that could make a man really happy." The Prez beckoned his finger and Happy had watched as a pair of young, tight pussy in the form of brunette twins, came over, one who sat on his lap while the other wrapped her arms around his shoulders and started to massage them. "Now brother, where can you find women like these?"

 _I already got one_ _and she's way the fuck hotter than both of these bitches_ , Happy thought ironically and then nearly fell out of his chair as the thought fully penetrated his brain.

_What. The. Fuck?!_

Pushing the disturbing idea of Tiny from his head, Happy nonetheless managed to entertain himself with the twin bitches, and had thanked his host for his generous offer, but regretfully turned it down before getting on his Harley to make fast time back to Charming.

The early morning ride home was enjoyable, yet it also allowed thoughts of Tiny to creep into Happy's mind. The woman had only been in town for a couple of weeks and he was starting to find it strange that the little bitch seemed to occupy his headspace more often than not, to the point that he had sought out his Prez to provide Tiny with protection. It had never occurred to him that he would be assigned to do so, but when he gave it more thought, Happy realized that overall it was the best situation. An untried prospect might end up bailing on Nico in a bad sitch, like that piece of shit Shepherd had on his very first assignment for the Club: protecting old Lumpy Feldstein. Instead he had hidden away as the old man had been beaten badly and later died of his injuries.

On the other hand, setting up Nico with another patch could pose a bigger problem. More than one of his brothers had made no secret of the fact that they wouldn't mind pressing up on Tiny.

And that was not a fucking option because Happy intended to be the only one tapping Tiny's ass for the foreseeable future.

However, despite the fact that Tiny was practically within spitting distance of the Club, pressing Club matters and her schedule had denied them the opportunity to hook up again.

That last shit had been fucking wild. Who would have thunk that such a little diva could be a wildcat in the sack? The blue-eyed bitch was getting more emboldened and adventurous with every hook up. What had been surprising to Happy however was the fact that he had found himself giving over control to a woman.

It was enough to make him feel a little uneasy about the situation. He wasn't a man given to let anyone run shit, with the exception of his Club President. When it came to handling his shit in the bedroom, he _always_ called the shots, so letting Tiny take the lead was something completely new for him and he was starting to realize just how much he had fucking enjoyed it.

Finally pulling into Charming, Happy dismissed his thoughts concerning the tight piece of ass that was Nico Torelli and focused himself on his Club. Arriving on the lot, Happy saw the string of parked bikes and knew that his brothers were waiting for his arrival. Jax had called for an impromptu Church session so that he could fill in his brothers fully on all the events of the past few days. With a great deal of questioning on the part of his President and his brothers, Happy spent a good hour detailing the events as they unfolded.

Jax had thanked him for handling the situation and had said that he would reach out to Mace to reinforce the need for extreme diligence and to keep things on a very low profile. With the DEA being denied an opportunity to sweep up the entire charter for the illegal manufacturing, possession and distribution of meth, the pigs would be even more vigilant in trying to tie the Sons to _any_ criminal activity. The meth trade that the Vegas Charter had developed would have to be shut down by order of the National President until further notice.

After the meeting, Happy and Opie stayed behind to discuss the possible ramifications of the Vegas Charter's near fuck-up on SAMCRO's legitimate expansion plans. Jax was very concerned. In the past the federal government had often used the actions of one charter to shut down an entire Club, outlawing the Club colors, stripping it's funding and completely exterminating the identify of an MC. Many larger and more powerful MCs than the Sons had fell victim to the Feds and Jax was determined that the Sons would not be next in line. Jax knew that once SAMCRO made the decision as a charter to cease being outlaw, a caucus would have to be called with those charters involved in gun running or the drug trade to encourage them to leave the outlaw life behind or otherwise risk the safety of entire Club. It was a discussion that would have to take place down the road and not one that Happy was looking forward to.

Instead on dwelling on the matter, Jax advised that they should table this shit for now and had ordered Happy to get cleaned up and to bring his ass over to his house for dinner that afternoon. With Opie and his old lady and kids joining it was sure to be a loud noisy affair.

Happy had been tempted to tell his Prez that he would give the dinner a pass, despite the ass chewing he would be sure to get from Marley. However, with Jax dropping the fact that his old lady had extended an invitation to their new counselor to join them, Happy changed his mind.

* * *

For the second time this weekend, Nico was headed over to the Tellers for another social gathering. It had been a fun and totally enjoyable evening that she had spent with Marlowe and Lyla. She had a great time eating and drinking and spending time getting to know the two high ranking old ladies of SAMCRO, and while generally speaking, Nico usually was able to hold her liquor, she had really let her hair down that night and had over indulged, which was not at all her normal practice as she always liked being in control at all times.

While it seemed that Lyla had kept a strict watch on her alcohol intake enjoying a nice buzz, Nico had completely gotten shitfaced. Marlowe, however, lived up to the Navy tradition of drinking like a sailor and seemed to be relatively unimpaired after the three of them had managed to consume two thirds of a full bottle of Jack. Instead, Nico dimly remembered Marlowe relieving her of her car keys and insisting that she stay the night.

The couch had been very comfortable and Nico had slept like a rock and figured that she probably would still be there if she hadn't been wakened by a hungry little angel.

As she paused at a surprisingly busy intersection for a Sunday afternoon, Nico grimaced as she recalled the somewhat embarrassing episode. She hadn't been quite sure what had been worse, her practically eye fucking Jax Teller in his own kitchen or her somewhat bedraggled appearance in front of him. While she wouldn't say she was completely vain, Nico was just like any other woman who hated being caught not looking her best. Fortunately she didn't see the complete mess she was until she gotten home, having elected to make her escape after gulping down a second cup of coffee. Finding her car keys on the kitchen counter, Nico had grabbed her bag and sneaked out the back door before Jax returned with his son and Marlowe in tow. Leaving had been in poor taste, considering the fact that she hadn't thanked her hostess for a good time, but she was feeling more than a little embarrassed at practically strip searching Jax Teller in his own home.

Having spent a good part of Saturday morning nursing her hangover, it had taken Nico a little while to get herself together. Having a meal of a small fruit salad and some vitamin water had definitely cleared out the cobwebs, and by mid-afternoon had allowed her to do some work on the current UT situation. She had figured that she probably would have spent the remainder of the weekend on her own. Getting a call from Marlowe not only to check up on her well-being but to invite her back to break bread with her and Jax on Sunday had been a welcome respite. Especially considering the fact that Happy was not around.

Marlowe had let it drop during their girl's night that her brother had been called out of town on Club business, which would explain why Nico hadn't heard from him for a few days. Not that the outlaw had been blowing up her phone since they had last hooked up. Happy Lowman was not the type of man to chase after a woman, especially as there was nothing in the way of a relationship between the two of them. They were fuck buddies, nothing more, nothing less, which after 16 years of marriage to an unfaithful bastard was exactly what Nico wanted. Absolutely no strings attached. The taciturn SAA wouldn't want some needy woman looking for a relationship and neither would he have a say on who she chose to be with, although at the very back of her mind, she thought that there might be a vague possibility that the outlaw might _think_ he could call those shots if he wanted. Refusing to even consider the ramifications of her desire that he _would_ be interested, Nico had dismissed the outlaw from her head and had spent the rest of the evening in quiet solitude.

Pulling into the Teller's driveway, Nico parked her car. _Well, at least today_ _I look a damn sight better than yesterday_. To make sure, she flipped down the visor to check her appearance in the mirror before exiting the car. Driving with the window down had caused her hair to become tousled, but running her hands through it briskly a few times brought it back into shape. Retrieving a large bakery box and handbag from the passenger seat of her car, Nico hit the locks, slammed the door and headed up the walkway.

Now as she pressed the doorbell, Nico smiled brightly to herself as she considered the opportunity she would have of seeing Jax and Marlowe together in their environment, along with Lyla and her giant of an old man, figuring that it should still be fun even though technically she would be a fifth wheel.

But as the door opened, Nico's eyebrow lifted in surprise as the gleaming bald head of the Club's SAA stood in front of her as he blocked the entrance.

"Hey, Tiny."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Nico demanded as she stood at the door. "I thought your ass was out of town," she said.

Leaning against the doorframe, Happy smirked at the gawking woman standing in front of him.

 _I guess Tiny wasn't expecting to see my ass today_ , Happy thought with amusement.

"It was. Now I'm back."

Nico sighed dramatically. "So are you going to let my ass in or what, killer?"

"Why should I? You haven't told me how happy you are to see me."

"Maybe because I'm not," Nico lied.

"Stop lying. You know you missed my big dick," Happy smirked.

"Don't be so damn cocky," she shot back and using her hip shoved him aside with surprising strength as she walked inside. "Besides," Nico taunted as she turned to face him. "If I missed your dick, you know you were missing my pussy _even more_ ," she challenged in a low voice.

Before Happy could lie, a lively piping voice reached them both. "Hi Miss Nico. You came back," Abel said as he stood by her leg. "Are you feeling better?"

"Hi sweet baby," Nico said with a smile. "Yes I am much better now." She smiled as the little boy ran off and through the open patio door to join the loud noises of what were undoubtedly more SAMCRO spawn.

"Yeah, I heard you got pretty wasted, Tiny," Happy chuckled as Nico frowned at him.

"Really? And who ratted me out?"

"Not me," Marlowe said as she came from the kitchen, Lyla trailing in her wake. "That would be my old man."

Standing up from an armchair seated across from Opie, Jax strolled over. "Thanks a lot, babe. Now you'll have Nico thinking I can't keep shit tight."

"Well sometimes you can't," his old lady replied, turning to Nico. "I see you managed to survive our Friday night bash. I have to say I was a little surprised. I didn't think you were such a lightweight," she teased.

"I am nobody's lightweight, bitch," Nico said defensively. "I was slightly impaired is all," she claimed.

"That's not what I heard," Opie said _sotto voce_.

"You know you're a pretty big man, to be trash-talking my ass, but I can cut you down to size. Believe that," Nico eyed the biker as his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"Now, now, no fighting among my guests. At least not on an empty stomach," Marlowe said with a grin. "I see you brought some desert. Thanks."

Nico rolled her eyes as she handed over the box. "It's a double chocolate fudge cake from the bakery in town. Hopefully it's good. I would have liked to make you something from scratch, but—"

"Wait a minute. The high-powered shark can cook?" Happy snarked. "I don't believe that shit. Not for a minute."

"Well believe it killer. I have skills and maybe one day you'll—" Nico amended. "A _ll_ of you will get to find out first hand."

"Well, we look forward to that," Jax purposefully cut off his SAA from what was sure to be a fiery comment that would set off the little lawyer. "Especially if your cooking is anything like that grub you had at your restaurant."

"It's even better."

"That's sounds great. I love Italian food and Opie said the food was fantastic and he's not the most adventurous man I know when it comes to experimenting," Lyla said as she walked over to give Nico an air kiss before looking up at Happy. "And you need to stop teasing Nico. Far be it for me to say anything, but in the short time I've known her I have learned that she doesn't seem to be the type to take shit from anybody." Lyla grinned. "Just saying…and respectfully too."

"Humph," was the cranky biker's reply. "Ope, apparently your old lady has been spending way too much time with Marley. She's been indoctrinated. You don't want her getting too sassy on your ass."

"I like my woman a little sassy," Opie replied as he wrapped an arm around her slim waist. "But I like it even more when she fixes my ass something to eat…like now, maybe?" he queried, his green eyes looking hopefully at Marlowe.

"All right, already. I guess we need to take pity on you men," Marlowe said. "Why don't you go outside and coral your kids so we can sit down and eat? Lyla, come on and let's get this grub on the table. Nico, I know you don't have a man here to wait on," Marlowe said cheekily as she gazed at her brother, "but would you like to help out anyway?"

"I guess I can do so…this time," Nico's eyes twinkled. "Don't want anybody to get used to me waiting on anybody as it's not my shtick."

Seeing Happy open his mouth, undoubtedly to drop some snarky ass comment, Marlowe slapped a hand over his mouth and glared at him. "Hap, you be fucking nice or I swear I'll put rat poison in your food."

Swatting her hand away, Happy rolled his eyes. "Shit, overprotective ain't ya?" he muttered as his sister made her way to the kitchen. "Look at this shit, Jax. Only in town a few weeks and these bi—old ladies are already taking up for Tiny."

Standing next to him, Jax grinned as he slapped a hand on his back. "Seems like it bro. I guess my old lady feels she has good reason to warn your ass," he said a little cryptically. "Come on, let's grab a quick drink before we eat."

* * *

The dining room in the Teller-Guthrie home was crowded with adults and children as they sat around a table that was piled with an abundance of aromatic food. Platters of sliced pot roast, smothered in rich gravy and served with tiny new potatoes and carrots, along with macaroni and cheese, sweet potato soufflé, broccoli casserole and hot potato rolls were passed around the table.

The conversation had been light, fun and energetic and the tasty food had been dispatched rapidly. Now, with the youngsters in the backyard running off their sugar high, the grown-ups sat relaxing around the table as they steadily worked through the cake Nico had brought for desert served with cups of strong Cuban espresso.

"God, I'm going to be the size of a blimp if I keep eating like this," Nico said as she put her fork down. "I never eat like this back home."

"Well you should," Happy snarked. "You're pretty healthy, but a couple more pounds would be good on ya."

"I don't recall asking your opinion, outlaw," Nico replied coolly. "I'm not trying to buy a whole new wardrobe while I'm in town."

"Stop busting Nico's chops, Hap," Opie said as he delved into his cake. "It's probably all the fresh NorCal air that's been giving you an appetite. I wouldn't worry about it too much. As hard as you're working for the Club, you'll burn off that shit in no time." Surprised, Nico nodded her thanks to him and was startled when he gave her a quick wink.

"Speaking of work, so I gather things are going well at Unser's?" Marlowe asked as she sipped on a cup of coffee.

"So far, so good," Nico replied. "The paperwork has been a little wieldy, but I'm making sense of everything. Lyla's been a real help too. She's got a real attention for detail and a smart head on her shoulders." Turning to Jax she smiled at him. "Once I get shit get straightened out, I think we'll need to talk about getting the business more automated in order to allow the company to properly expand at a consistent rate. I think Lyla can be a real help there."

"That sounds like really great news to me," Jax grinned. "We really appreciate all Lyla has done to help get Unser's right. I know Ope is real proud of you," he nodded at the smiling young woman. "We all are."

"I really appreciate that, Jax. I'm having a wonderful time. Nico has really made learning about the business interesting. She's even got me the study materials so that I can become a Notary." She reached over to squeeze Nico's arm. "I'm going to really miss you when you leave us."

"Well, she ain't going anywhere just yet," Happy replied gruffly. "She's got a lot of shit to do."

"Yes, she does," Marlowe grinned. _And if I have my way, she'll be sticking around for a long time if I can only get your stubborn ass in line._

* * *

"I think Happy likes Nico," Lyla said as she sat in the middle of the bed wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of boy shorts.

Having returned home from Jax and Marlowe's, Opie and Lyla had made quick work of getting their kids in bed and were now lounging in their bedroom.

"Oh, you do, do ya?" he replied as he hung his kutte on a hanger and placed it in their closet.

"Yes, I do," Lyla replied as she watched him carefully. "You don't feel the same?"

"As a matter of fact, I agree with you," was his somewhat surprising reply.

While his brother's sexual proclivities were legendary among his brothers and Hap had never been known to have had a serious relationship with any woman, never mind the possibility of an old lady, it was apparent to Opie that he had developed a marked preference for the Club's new lawyer.

And as far as Opie was concerned, Nico Torelli was all right in his book.

Although initially suspicious of the outsider, Nico had managed to impress him with her handling of the Cara Cara arson claim, her ability to sooth the savage beast that was the Club's former president and the counsel she had provided with regards to Big Otto. But it was the compassionate way in which Nico had dealt with his old lady that had put him directly in her corner.

Lying in bed together the morning after the Lyla and Marlowe had hung out with Nico, Opie had teased his old lady regarding what exactly the women had gotten up to without their menfolk around. He had been surprised when Lyla had hesitantly relayed how she had shared some of her painful past with the newcomer and Nico's warm, empathetic response. Although they had spent a lot of time working and dealing with Lyla's former drug dependency as a couple, they had both shied away from discussing in depth her former career and the impact that it had on their family.

Discovering his old lady's hidden fear—that their children would come to truly understand what she had done for a living and despise her—had been a revelation and Opie realized that it was a real concern for the future of their family. After listening as his wife expounded on the advice that Nico had shared, he realized that the counselor had made a number of good suggestions. Wrapping his arms around his old lady, Opie told her that she wasn't going to go through this alone; that anyone who dared to talk some shit about her to their kids would have him to deal with, never mind if they were somebody's kid. There was plenty of retaliatory measures against their parents that Opie had no problem in carrying out.

Ultimately, together they would find the right way and time to best talk to their children about her former career choice and that he would be right there fully supporting her. Lyla would never face this burden alone.

That reassurance had been all that Lyla had needed to hear. Burying her hands in his long hair, the two of them had started to make love, only to be interrupted as their two sons banged on the outside of their door demanding breakfast.

_"Kenny, the door is locked," Piper had sighed loudly outside their parents' bedroom. "You know what that means."_

_"Yeah, they're going to be in their forever. C'mon. Let's get Ellie to make us something to eat," his brother snickered._

Thankful that he had a capable daughter to handle her younger brothers, Opie had proceeded to make fervent love to his woman, something that he thoroughly enjoyed, especially now that they spent more time communicating in their relationship than just fucking.

Now, as he sat down next to his wife, Opie wrapped a beefy arm around her. "Babe, Hap may be a hard brother to know, but even I can read between the lines that he has an interest in Nico. I'm just not sure—"

"—whether it's just about him hitting her shit or if he's interested in something more permanent," Lyla concluded.

"Exactly," Opie hesitated. "I love my brother, but I think I know him pretty well. It's not likely that he's even remotely interested in having an old lady, although—"

"What?"

"The more time he spends with her, he might just change his mind about that shit," Opie shrugged his shoulders, "especially since he's kind of Nico's bodyguard now."

"What?!" Lyla exclaimed. "Nico didn't say anything to us. When the fuck did that happen?"

"Just this week. Jax pulled her in and told her that whenever she was on Club business outside of Charming that Happy would be her security." Opie hesitated wondering if he should drop the dime on his brother, but he really wanted to hear his old lady's thoughts. "The thing is that Nico's protection wasn't Jax's idea—it was Happy's."

"Oh, that's so fuckin' romantic," Lyla squealed.

"I don't know if it's all of _that_. He's the Club's SAA, babe. Happy is always concerned about protecting the Club. I think he just saw the possibility of shit going wrong if something happened to Nico and is taking the necessary steps to preemptive shit."

"Oh really?" Lyla derided. "If that is all it is, why is _he_ looking after Nico? Any patch or prospect could do the job, right?"

Opie shrugged. "Probably, but—"

"But _this_ way, he gets to keep Nico all to himself."

"You sure are reading a lot into this sitch, Ly."

"It's called woman's intuition Opie. You should look into that shit," Lyla laughed. "Besides, men like Hap are usually the last ones to realize that their really into a woman until it's too fucking late and she's got him by his short and curlies."

"You know you're talking a lot of shit?"

"It's shit I know. After all," Lyla said as she stroked his beard, "that's how it happened with us."

Refusing to acknowledge Lyla's knowing smirk, Opie changed the subject. "Well, what about Nico?" Opie asked. "Do you think _she's_ into Hap? It looks to me like she is."

"Oh Ope, you know I can't dime Nico like that," Lyla said as she made to get up from the bed, only for her old man to yank her back down.

"Hey! You're the one who brought this shit up. You just mined me for a shit load of Intel on Hap," he blustered. "The least you can do is return the favor."

"Nope, no can do, babe." Lyla winked. "It's kind of like Church. What's discussed between us women is on a need to know basis, and right now you don't need to know." Standing up, Lyla made quick work to strip off tank and boy shorts and now naked turned to head for the shower. "Besides, I'd rather discuss some other things right now—like what you're going to do to me in the shower," she purred.

Feeling his cock starting to stand at attention, Opie shrugged and stripping out of his boxers went to join his wife.

_This shit is what happens when I let my dick do the thinking. That quasi-interrogation was definitely a Marlowe-inspired scenario. Hap is right. Ly is learning way too much from Jax's old lady. I don't know what she and my old lady is up to, but I get the feeling that I better stay the fuck out of it._

_Something tells me that these old ladies are gunning for my brother. Hap is just going to have to take care of himself._

* * *

_Tonight was a good night_ , Marlowe thought to herself as she readied Abel for bed.

Throwing together a dinner party this weekend had definitely been a spur of the moment thing and even though she had been tempted to invite a few more people—like her favorite sperm donor Kozik and his trusty sidekick Tig—she ultimately decided that it was best to keep it simple. After all, dinner was just a pretext for getting her brother and the Club's new counselor in the same room for a little observation.

A little devious, sure, but the evening had been a roaring success. Although Marlowe had never anticipated that settling in Charming would morph her into a happy homemaker like her Tía, she had to admit that she had enjoyed cooking and hosting as much as her guests had enjoyed eating and being catered to. The kids had especially enjoyed a good time, socializing among themselves and quizzing their parents about SAMCRO history. As a result, however, the youngest of the bunch was giving her a bit of a hard time during their nightly bedtime routine, resisting going to bed and, if he must, insisting that he wanted to sleep with Marlowe .

Freshly bathed and dressed in Spiderman footie pajama's, Abel had roped Marlowe into reading him two bedtime stories after Jax had already read him one. The little tyke was definitely putting up a good fight.

"I don't wanna to sleep in my bed," Abel pouted, his small arms folded across his chest as he eyed Marlowe with a militant eye. "I wanna sleep with you and Daddy, pease?" he whined.

Marlowe gave her little boy a tight squeeze before ruffling his hair. "You know the deal, Abel. You have a big boy bed now and that's where you need to sleep." Giving his father a side glance, Marlowe was hard pressed not to laugh out loud. Jax was standing at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his broad chest exactly like his son and the hairy eyeball he was giving her speaking volumes.

_Sorry pal, but my ass belongs to your father tonight and he's not interested in sharing._

"But I like sleeping with you and daddy," Abel protested.

"Sorry little man, but you're sleeping solo tonight," Jax said sternly.

A calculating gleam—identical to his grandma's, Jax noted— suddenly appeared in the little boy's eyes. "Can I sleep with you _tomorrow_?" he asked.

Catching his old lady's eye, who gave him a sheepish shrug of the shoulders, Jax sighed.

 _I'm about to bust a nut here_ , Jax thought grimly. He loved that his son was so attached to Marlowe, but his frequent attempts at cock-blocking his old man were a little much sometimes.

"Okay," Jax finally capitulated. "You can sleep with us tomorrow, but tonight you're staying here."

Abel grinned, apparently quite pleased with his negotiation skills. "Okay, Daddy." Pulling away from Marlowe, he crawled on his hands and knees to the foot of the bed where Jax picked him up and tossed him in the air as Abel giggled and screeched happily.

"Jax, he throws up on ya, _you're_ gonna bathe him again," Marlowe warned.

Stretching out his arms, Abel grinned as Marlowe took him from his father and bent down to tuck him in. "See, Mommy, I didn't throwed up. I be good."

Marlowe so busy snuggling the boy into the soft and colorful Spiderman comforter that it took several seconds for Abel's words to penetrate.

"Uh, wha—what did you say, baby?" she stuttered.

"I gonna be good," he piped up with a smile.

"No, sweetheart, I mean—" Marlowe moistened her suddenly dry lips. "I'm mean what did you call me?" she said quietly as she sat down on the bed next to him.

Standing unseen behind her, Jax had a huge grin on his face as he waited for his son's reply.

"I called you 'mommy'," Abel whispered. Looking over at his father and seeing his father's smile and encouraging wink, he continued. "Piper calls Auntie Lyla mommy." He reached up to place his chubby hands on either side of her face. "So youse my mommy now, right?"

With her heart a staccato beat in her chest, Marlowe swallowed the huge lump in her throat and blinked her eyes rapidly in an effort to stop the swell of tears. "Yes, baby I am," she whispered. "I'm your Mommy now."

Snaking his small arms around her neck, Abel gave her a fierce hug. "I love you, Mommy."

"And I love you too, baby boy," Marlowe said brokenly and she squeezed her son to her. Pressing kisses on his hair and face, she was finally able to control her emotions and tuck her son into bed.

On the other side of the bed, Jax reached down to kiss his son on the forehead. "Sleep tight, little man," and reaching across the bed, he grabbed Marlowe's hand. "C'mon on, darlin'. Time for bed." Pulling her up, he led her out of the room and closed the door behind them.

* * *

Standing in front of their California King bed, Jax looked at his old lady. He could count on one hand with three fingers down, the number of times his old lady had ever shed tears in his presence—once while in the middle of suffering a PTSD nightmare—the last at the happy news confirming that his brother Kozik was her biological father. Now as he watched her try and fight her emotions, he knew that she needed to let them out.

"You okay little mama?" he said quietly.

"I'm a fuckin' mess, is what I am," Marlowe swiped under her eyes while the soldier in her tried valiantly to dispel her tears and failed miserably. "Oh shit," she blubbered as instead they started to rain down heavily.

As Jax wrapped his arms around his old lady she buried her face into his neck. "I am Abel's mommy," she gasped as the realization really hit her. "Babe, I really _am_ his mother."

Jax tangled his hands through her long caramel colored locks as he focused on her bright gray eyes as they continued to flood tears. "That's right, you sure are darlin'. The absolutely best mother he could possibly have and we have a really smart kid because Abel knows it too. His birth mother was useless and abandoned him, and Tara was nothing but a poor substitute who couldn't even protect him when he needed it the most. There's no one in the world I could ever trust to be his mother. You're the only one, and I'm so fuckin' proud of you."

Taking her lips with his own Jax kissed her deeply. As Marlowe eagerly returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck to bury her hands into his hair, he settled his hands around her ass and hoisted her up. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, Jax turned and gently laid her across the bed.

Gently making quick work of stripping her of her faded Navy tank, Marlowe moaned as Jax found her soft, round breast and pinched her nipple teasingly before taking it in his mouth.

Her hands in his hair, Marlowe gently pulled his head back, her teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he growled, slipping his hand into her underwear.

"Oh God, Jax!" Marlowe moaned. She pulled Jax's mouth back to hers, her hips moving in a circular motion as he stroked her with his fingers. Marlowe gasped, her breathing quickening and her eyes fluttering closed as she bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out, fearful of waking their son.

"Look at me, darlin'." He whispered, coaxing Marlowe to look him in the eye as she gave in to the convulsions that shook her body as she came against his hand. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Jax sucked her juices from his fingers as she watched him through half-hooded eyes. As he unbuckled and unzipped, pushing his jeans down to his ankles, Jax promised himself that as long as he had air in his lungs, no other man would ever hear his name fall from her lips like this. Tearing her skimpy briefs apart, Jax ripped them off her hips. Kissing her hard and deep until she was almost whimpering, Jax forced her legs open and up around his waist as he pushed himself inside her. Marlowe lifted her hips off the bed to meet his manic thrusting.

Suddenly, Jax was back on his knees and Marlowe cried out as he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her towards him. Impaling her as deep has he could go, Jax grunted as he pounded into her over and over. With their eyes locked on each other, Marlowe moaned as she pulled at her hardened nipples, letting herself go as Jax brought her to a shaking and violent release once again. She couldn't help but smile at the look of self-satisfaction on his face and yet the tenderness that lighted his face spoke of so much more than having made her cum. As many times as they had made love before, this time was different. It was as if the declaration of Abel's love for her had them both realizing that they were truly now a complete family unit, and Marlowe felt like she was truly home.

Letting go of her hips, Jax held onto Marlowe's arms and pulled her off the bed until she was straddling him. Coiling her arms around his neck as he buried his face in her hair, a stunning thought managed to pierce his mind.

_No one will ever take this woman from me and our son._

* * *

Laying quietly, basking in the afterglow with her old man, Marlowe couldn't believe how the evening had ended. Abel's revelation had truly stunned her. She had known that a strong bond had indeed formed between herself and Abel, but it had not really dawned on her how much that love and feeling was reciprocated and receiving that sweet and innocent love had seemingly dispelled all the feelings she had believing herself incapable of being a mother to a child. There was no doubt in her mind now that not only could she be a mother to Abel but that she would protect her son with her life.

 _Maybe this is how Hap felt about me when I was a kid_.

With her thoughts turning to her brother, Marlowe smiled in the dark, the breath of a slightly snoring old man tickling the back of her neck as they spooned together.

There was definitely something between Happy and Nico, on that Marlowe was definitely sure. Granted, Nico had only been in Charming for a short while, but there was an undeniable attraction between the two and if Marlowe was a betting woman—and she was—she was sure that things had kicked off between them long before Nico had arrived in town. It was a foregone conclusion that Happy had probably followed Nico home tonight for some fun and games.

With her own family happily settled, it was time for Marlowe to interfere in Happy Lowman's love life. The first step would be to take every opportunity to throw the two of them together. Fortunately for her, her old man had had a hand in that with making Happy responsible for Nico's safety while in NorCal, which had been a very exciting piece of news that he had shared with her. The second would be trickier—getting her brother to see the benefits in making Nico Torelli his old lady.

Of course, Nico would have to be brought on board as well. Marlowe sighed softly.

 _This matchmaking shit is a lot of fucking work_ , she thought grimly. _Good thing Uncle Sam taught me one valuable piece of advice._

_Never give up!_


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

 

* * *

_**Lodi—Monday, April 25, 2011** _

The Willis Bridge was a rarely used crossing located on a defunct logging road a few miles outside Lodi. It was secluded and off the beaten path and was a favored meeting place for the Sons of Anarchy and the Grim Bastards MC.

The two organizations had ties that went back nearly 20 years that stemmed from Bloody '92—an epic two-year war that was fought between the Sons of Anarchy and the Mayans Motorcycle Club. The Oakland-based MC had been intent on expanding its Club's borders by creating a new charter in Lodi which was the Grim Bastards' territory and was practically in the Sons' backyard. The Bastards was not going to allow the Mayans to step on their dope and pussy trade as it was their main source of livelihood. When Clay Morrow approached the founding member—a young former Gulf War Vet who enlisted in the U.S. Army in order to get away from the mean streets of Oakland—he offered an opportunity that the younger man, Taddarius Orwell "T.O." Cross found difficult to resist. Therefore, an alliance between the Sons and the young MC was inevitable and became mutually profitable for both clubs.

In the aftermath of the War that Clay Morrow had beaten back to just a simmering conflict between the two rival MCs, the predominantly African-American Club had formed a close bond with the Sons and as a result, were known throughout NorCal as a brother club to the SAMCRO charter, a surprising situation when considering that as a whole the Sons were predominantly made of a variety of races none of which were Black.

Standing underneath the Bridge, Jax and several of his brothers stood patiently waiting for the arrival of the Bastards. The shade from the bridge itself provided cooling relief from the unusual warmth of the spring sun.

"So you think the Bastards' were able to get a hold of the right asshole?" Tig asked from his perch on his ride as he lit a cigarette.

"That's what T.O. said when he called," Jax replied. "I don't think he would have hit me up if this shithead wasn't legit."

"Well, the Bastards have never let us down before," Bobby said. "I don't see them doing so now."

Jax was about to agree with him when the distinctive roar of the pipes of several bikes and a large vehicle made its way to his ears.

"Looks like they're here," Happy said, getting off his ride.

Sure enough, several bikes in the flashy colors of bright orange, yellow, red , purple and electric blue, as well as a dark brown van with tinted windows pulled out of an old deserted trail and came to a stop in front of the Sons.

Approaching the patch on a hot orange bike, Jax grinned as the man removed his bike glasses and helmet to reveal the gleaming dome of the Grim Bastards' Prez, T.O. Cross.

"Hey bro," Jax said as the man disembarked his ride and stepped towards him embracing him in the customary bro hug, as the rest of T.O.'s crew offered similar greetings to his brothers. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, brother. It's good to see you," T.O. replied. "So how's shit in Charming?"

"Pretty good," Jax replied. "How about Lodi?"

"Not that good, man," Sticky replied as he pushed his way into the conversation. "Pussy business is doing all right for now," referring to the stable of girls that the Grim Bastards ran, "but the dope trade—it's drying up brother, thanks to the Mayans."

At Jax's frown, T.O. explained. "The Mayans aren't actively running blow in town, but they _have_ been hitting up the surrounding areas outside of Lodi and Stockton and other outlying towns—Pope, Mason. Their dealing out of a number of rest stops, the Mill and other industrial and construction sites, and it's had a serious impact on our ability to earn. As much as I appreciate your gifting us with some hardware, fact is, we don't have much territory left to protect."

Jax placed a hand on his shoulder. "Bro, I didn't know it was that bad," his tone sympathetic.

"Believe it," Sticky said irritably. "I know that your MC has squashed your shit with the Mayans, but this new deal you got in play has really hurt our business." His tone, which was aggressive, did not go unnoticed by the rest of the Sons.

"Cool it, Sticky," T.O.'s tone brooked no argument and he watched the younger man's tense shoulders subside as he stalked off. "Pay no mind to him. He's young and a bit hotheaded." He slapped Jax on the shoulder. "Why don't we get to the business at hand?"

"Let's do that," Jax replied as the group of men headed over to the Bastards' van. "We really appreciate your tracking this bitch down for us."

"Well it wasn't too hard once Juice provided us with a name, just a matter of tracking his ass down and scooping him up." T.O. grinned. "Good thing you let us handle it too, bro. A bunch of white faces in that part of town would have definitely raised more than a couple of eyebrow, and coulda have netted y'all a cap in the ass for your trouble."

Pulling open the sliding door with a flourish, two of the Bastards reached in and dragged out the large man that was tightly restrained with zip ties and propped him up into a sitting position on the floor of the van.

Grabbing the hood off his head, T.O. grinned. "I believe this is the son of a bitch you've been looking for."

Jax looked into the face of a huge baldheaded man the color of deep chocolate, his face marked with a number of bruises and contusions. As the man's good eye—the other was swollen shut—cracked opened, he peered at the biker standing in front of him. "Shit, it's fuckin' Brad Pitt," he said hoarsely.

"Not quite, as our Prez is a bit too rugged to look gay," Bobby growled as he stepped forward, "but I bet you remember _my_ ass."

Jaye Razor, currently employed muscle for Georgie Caruso Productions, groaned. "You're the old mutherfucka who threw up on my ass."

"That's right," Bobby smiled as he pulled back his fist and slammed it into the muscle's face knocking him out cold. "And by the time we get started on you, you're going to wish me throwing up on you was all we're going to do to you."

Jax stood aside as Happy and Bobby made quick work of dragging Happy's new interrogation victim to the Club's cargo van as it was simultaneously being emptied of the crates containing a half a dozen each of AKs, MAC-10s and Tech-9's and transferring them to the Bastards' van.

"You gonna get this shit handled, Hap?" Jax asked as the SAA returned to his side.

"It's as good as done, boss," Happy replied. "Me and Bobby are going to get this bitch up to the warehouse and handle shit."

"Good. Tig and I will meet you up there. The sooner you get that bitch ass to talk, the sooner we can get back and report to the Club. I don't want to talk about this shit over the pre-pays."

"Got it," Bobby replied, having joined them. Shaking hands with everyone, Jax watched as both vans departed and the rest of the Grim Bastards followed behind to guard their new merch leaving T.O. alone with Jax and Tig.

"Your guy Sticky seems pretty fuckin' antsy," Tig said, the built in filter that most people have failing him once again. "Is it just me or is he a little pissed at us?"

Jax winced a little as he eyed his brother. No one could say that Tigger was a diplomat, but he on occasion he could manage to hit the crux of a situation right on the fucking head. "While I wouldn't put it quite like my brother here, I would have to agree. How's things hanging in your crew T?" Jax watched as he ran a hand over his smooth bald head.

"Honestly, brother? It's not looking good at all. Look, I'm glad things are going well for your MC, I am, but this sitch with the Mayans has seriously cut into our business. Money is tight, which means tempers are on high and Sticky is not the most patient of my brothers," T.O. sighed. "The fact is, ever since Lander died, my Club has been at a crossroads. I may have lead my brothers, but he was the heart and soul of the Club and I still miss him every day."

Jax had good reason to remember Lander Jackson. The ginormous, outgoing Bastard had been longtime friends with T.O. Cross going back as far as pre-K. Lander had been made a target of the Calaveras MC when Marcus Alvarez pushed out the puppet MC to use the Grim Bastards to mule his drugs through Charming to Stockton Prison. Lander had been brutally murdered by the Calaveras in retaliation and although justice had been meted out, apparently the loss of their brother was still affecting the Bastards.

"You know how sorry the Club was that shit happened," Jax said quietly.

"Yeah, I know. Maybe if the deal we had struck with the Mayans was still going, things wouldn't be so bad, but a few months after you guys went inside King Beaner said that he no longer needed us to mule for him." T.O. shrugged. "Ever since then, the size of my Club has been dwindling. What you saw today, man, that's what's left of my crew. Things keep going this way, there won't be a Grim Bastards MC no more."

"Damn, brother," Jax said with concern. "I can't even imagine how this shit is landing on you."

It was a somber MC President who travelled to the Club's warehouse, its former SAA riding beside him as he contemplated the probable fate of the Grim Bastards MC. It was hard to believe that T.O. was in this position.

From the stories that Jax had heard from Clay and Bobby, T.O. had been a force to be reckoned with during Bloody '92. His logistical and strategic planning that he had learned in his years in the Army combined with the street smarts he had perfected on the mean streets of Oak-Town had been very helpful to SAMCRO. The relationship that both clubs had had with one another had been forged in guns and blood.

It was disturbing to Jax that during a time when he was trying to bring the Club into a new era of peace, prosperity and legitimacy that their brother Club could quite possibly end up dying. It was a situation that had Jax realizing just what an asset T.O. had always been to the Sons of Anarchy.

_I wonder…_

Pulling up to the electronic gate that served as the entrance to Elliott Oswald's private property, Jax forcibly put his concerns regarding the Grim Bastards aside for the time being to focus on the matter at hand, which was finally getting the truth about the death of Luann Delaney.

* * *

"It was Georgie-fuckin'-Caruso," Happy said, his gravelly tone echoing in the Clubhouse.

With Jax calling ahead for every available patch to be on the lot, he and his brothers had arrived at the Club ready to dispense all the information that Happy and Bobby had extracted from their victim. But the brothers weren't alone.

Nico Torelli was sitting at one of the tables having a lively conversation with Kozik. The Counselor started to rise to leave the Sons to their business, but Jax waived for her to sit down and had motioned for his SAA to drop his bombshell.

Happy's announcement sparked a lot of questions, but it was Opie's that was heard above all the rest. "Are you absolutely sure about this shit? I mean, I'm not entirely surprised that Georgie would have ordered a hit. He was a fuckin' douchebag who gave the order to put hands on Lyla and Luann's other talent. I trust you Hap, but a man getting sliced open might say anything to make the pain stop."

Happy, who had straddled a chair backwards, nodded emphatically. "I hear you brother and believe me when I say, the info is legit." He knocked back the shot that was offered to him by one of the prospects before he continued. "Apparently the last time the Club paid a visit to his studio, Georgie was pissed. He didn't take kindly to the Club retrieving Luann's stolen rough cuts or that his own laptop was destroyed in the process. He ordered that stupid asshole to rough Luann up, but apparently she fought back and he beat her to death. It only took an hour to get the whole story out of him, but we spent a few more hours with. The bitch was a strong motherfucker, I'll give him that, but Bobby and me worked him over pretty good before we finished him. I think Otto would be pleased at how shit went down."

Looking over at V-Lin, Happy grinned evilly. "You and Ratboy are on grave digging detail. Take your asses up to the warehouse with the cargo van. It's a little messy up there, so make sure you take some cleaning supplies."

"Oh damn," V-Lin muttered, his imagination running wild at the thought of cleaning up blood-spattered remains, knowing full well that the SAA was a crazy motherfucker.

"You got something smart to say, shithead? Are you complaining?" Happy barked. " 'Cause I can give you something to complain about."

"No sir," the prospect replied quickly. "Me and Ratboy, we've got this."

Happy centered dark eyes on the nervous patch for ten fulminating seconds. "You better. Pick him up and take him to Chigger Woods. Bury him deep. And get it done—like yesterday."

As the two prospects quickly hurried to the Club's exit, Happy redirected his focus on his Prez. Observing his demeanor, it was clearly evident that Jax Teller was feeling a lot of emotions regarding the discovery of how Luann met her untimely death and Happy felt sympathy for the younger man. Jackson Teller had always felt a measure of responsibility about the death of Big Otto's old lady and the guilt of that was multiplied when the meting out of justice had long since been overdue.

"So where's Georgie now?" Filthy Phil asked.

It was Bobby who answered. "On a business trip in Thailand. Apparently he has some new line of sex toys that he's marketing. He's expected back in NorCal in another week. That's when we get him," he said grimly.

However, as the patches talked amongst themselves about this revelation, there was one brother who had an issue.

"It seems to me that Hap putting to sleep the asshole who actually murdered Luann should be enough. Is it really necessary to go after Georgie too?" Clay asked. "With his muscle gone missing, if Georgie ends up dead too, if the sheriffs connect the dots this shit has the potential to blow back on the Club."

"Of course taking out Georgie is fucking necessary," Bobby shouted. " _He_ was the one who ordered Luann to be roughed up in the first damn place! Besides, if this shit is done right, nobody will be the wiser. Luann died nearly two years ago. It's a cold case and other than Unser, it's pretty unlikely that anyone in Charming PD knew that Georgie was trying to muscle in on Luann's business. So there is no motive tying us to Georgie's death. Porn is a dirty business and there could be any number of likely scenarios as to why Georgie would end up dead and if we don't leave a body lying around, there won't be any loose ends to tie us to his disappearance.

"Bottom line, SAMCRO _never_ lets shit done to us or people associated with us go unpunished. This shit has gone unresolved for too fuckin' long. Clay, you wanna vote on this shit, fine, but now you know where I stand."

* * *

Nico watched as the impassioned patch who loved all things Elvis stomped out of the Clubhouse in a huff. It was obvious that he felt very deeply about the situation and Nico was intent on finding out why.

Gathering her belongings in the wake of low murmuring as the Sons discussed the situation amongst themselves, Nico excused herself to Jax and headed for the exit.

_I think it's long overdue for the Club's counselor to get a little counselling himself._

Hoping that Bobby hadn't decided to hit the road to clear his head, Nico bit back a sigh of relief as she stepped out of the Club's entrance. Bobby was sprawled out at one of the picnic tables as he leaned back and lit a cigarette. There was something in his manner—a mix of anger and sadness that pulled at the man's normally jovial nature.

With Big Otto's situation having been on the minds of the Club over the last couple of weeks, it had not escaped Nico's notice that Bobby seemed to be heavily invested in the outcome of finding and punishing Luann Delaney's killers. Nico had long suspected that there was a story here and it was her curiosity and concern that propelled her to walk over to the shaggy haired biker and sit down next to him.

"Got a smoke?" she asked and watched Bobby's eyebrows disappear into his shaggy hairline, which was not altogether hard to do.

"I didn't know you were a smoker, Counselor," he replied, digging into his kutte and pulling out a pack and offering her one. Taking it, Nico waited as he pulled out his lighter and lighting it, took a deep draw before exhaling a plume of blue-gray smoke.

"Well, I don't smoke often and to be honest, when I do I actually prefer a really good cigar," she said, causing the old biker to choke on his own cigarette. "Hey," Nico deadpanned, "if you're gonna light it up, then light it big, baby." She grinned as she saw that her antics had brought a smile to the man's face and a wry chuckle.

"You know, I've been around long enough to have heard that you, Bobby Elvis, are something of a father confessor to your brothers. Is that true?"

Bobby shrugged his wide shoulders. "I guess that's legit. I try to do what I can to help my brothers sort out the noise in their heads from time to time."

"So…what happens when you need to unload your own shit on someone?" Nico asked.

Bobby chuckled wryly. "Now you've just said a fuckin' mouthful."

"Yes I have, but I notice that you didn't actually answer the question." Nico paused and then reached over to squeeze Bobby's arm. "It just seems to me that a man who has such a listening ear for his brothers also needs to have the same in return. It's just…I'm gathering from some of the things you've said and done lately that this situation with Luann Delaney has really hit you rather hard and I just wanted to express that if you ever need a willing, unbiased and nonjudgmental ear, I'm always available."

Getting up and dropping the remains of her cigarette on the black top and stomping on it with the ball of her foot, Nico picked up her handbag and started to head towards her car when Bobby called out to her.

"Wait."

Turning back, Nico looked into Bobby's craggy face as he thoughtfully looked at the glowing embers of his cigarette before eyeing her. Whatever it was that he saw in her face must have helped him to decide, so when he gave her a come hither look to sit back down, Nico did so.

"With all you've been doing for the Club, I have confidence in my Prez that you are trustworthy, so I know what I tell you won't go any farther than this table, right?"

"Give me a dollar."

"What?"

"I said give me a dollar damn it. Don't be a cheap bastard as your name isn't Happy."

With a snort of laughter, Bobby reached into his kutte and pulled out a wad thick enough to choke a horse with and digging through it, found a dollar.

"Shit, I shoulda asked for more," Nico kidded. Taking the dollar, Nico tucked it into her handbag. "You have just officially retained my services as counselor."

"Uh, isn't it a conflict of interest if you're also working for the Club?" Bobby prodded.

"Any counsel I give you will be strictly in the therapeutic sense. Think of me as your own private shrink. So," Nico said companionably. "Tell me what happened."

Bobby took another hit off his cigarette before he exhaled and turned to her. "I was tapping Luann."

For a moment, Nico eyed him cautiously. "You mean as in—"

"Fucking…I was fucking Luann just before she died."

_I thought so._

"Forgive me for asking," Nico said delicately, "but I was under the impression that when it comes to old ladies, the MC tradition is that old ladies' pussies belong only to their old men. So…how is it that this happened between you and Luann?"

"There's a prison clause," Bobby replied a little shame-faced.

Nico frowned. "What exactly is a 'prison clause'?"

"Basically, it means when a member is doing hard time that both parties are no longer mutually exclusive while the member is on the inside."

Taking in Bobby's sheepish expression, Nico nodded slowly. "So you and Luann—"

"Yeah. I didn't plan on it happening, but things got a little twisted when I started working on the books for the studio."

"How's that?"

"Well, remember how I told you that my old man used to work for the mob in Reno and how he taught me quite a bit about record keeping?" At Nico's nod, Bobby continued. "Luann's books were a damn mess, but in going over the Studio's accounts I discovered that Luann had two sets of books. She was running a skim on the Club, cutting us light on our vig for at least six years. Technically, I should have told the Club right away, but then Luann managed to, how shall I say, get me to change my mind," Bobby grimaced as he watched Nico roll her eyes. "Now don't judge her too harshly. She really did love Big Otto, and she knew and I knew that if I went to the Club it would have really broken his heart to find out what she had done."

"So you basically kept quiet and covered for her and she—"

"Took care of me? Yeah. We were going to try and work out a way for her to repay the Club without exposing what she had done but then she died," Bobby grimaced. "Look, I hadn't planned to back door Big Otto, but in my defense, I ain't never been with a porn star before and let me tell ya, some of the shit Luann could do—"

Nico put up a hand. "Really, it's okay. I don't think I need the visual," she said drolly and as the two of them eyed each other, they burst out laughing.

"Well, bottom line, I enjoyed myself—and so did Luann. I mean, not to toot my own fucking horn, but I do have a rep with the ladies."

"Oh you do, huh?" Nico kidded and noting the sparkling twinkle in his eye could definitely see the attraction the biker would have with the opposite sex.

"Yes, I do. I may not have the rep my Prez has as the James T. Kirk of the MC World, but I have had more than my share of the fair sex. Despite the circumstances as to how we got together, Luann and I had a very good time together. In fact, Luann said that if I didn't have a pot belly she could have really used me in front of the cameras, like in a biker porn fantasy or shaking my ass as Elvis—but that's probably a story that's better left unsaid," his eyes twinkled.

"I think I agree." _Charming motherfucker._

"I still feel bad about going behind Otto's back, though. I mean, he served a lot of time for the Club and not too long after Luann died Otto did some major shit for us that earned him his spot on the row. That's why I've been fighting so hard to make this shit right for him. Even though I had an out with the prison clause, Otto was my brother, and I was wrong to do what I did. So if he and Luann can rest easy in their graves then I want to make sure that happens." Bobby sighed. "You know, I have to admit, it feels really good to get that shit off my chest."

"Well I'm glad I could be there for you and thanks for being so open and honest with me," Nico replied. "I have a suggestion for you though. Kind of some therapeutic homework for ya."

"What's that?"

"Tell Jax." At Bobby's disbelieving stare, Nico held up her hands. "Just hear me out before you demand your dollar back. Personally I don't really see any reason why you need to bring this situation to the entire Club. After all, what happened between you and Luann was consensual, is ancient history now, and ultimately getting justice for her and Big Otto is what is important. However, I think that it would do Jax some good and yourself as well if you come clean about your relationship. I can tell that this situation has had your Prez beating himself up about what happened. I think knowing that at the very least, Luann had some joy in her life before she died will go a long way in alleviating his pain and knowing that you mourn her as well will bring him a measure of comfort too. Just think about it." Reaching over, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Otherwise, don't worry about a thing Bobby. Your secret is safe with me."

"You know, you are definitely something special Counselor, and if I didn't love my brother Happy—and like breathing for that matter—I'd show you a few of my Elvis moves." He grinned watching as Nico turned a delicate shade of pink.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Bobby," she tossed over her shoulder as she stood up and headed towards her car. "I'll see you around."

"Sure thing, Counselor."

* * *

_**Stockton—Monday, May 2, 2011** _

Giving the structure a critical eye, Nico could understand why the Sons wanted to own the building. Sitting on a deserted parcel of the Stockton Navy Yard with only one other empty building adjacent to it, the property sat on the edge of the docks and afforded a measure of privacy. The three-story building was large and offered over 30,000 square feet in space and properly allocated it could be utilized for a variety of sets and stages, live streaming rooms, prop storage, dressing rooms and administrative offices—whatever the Sons needed to create a fully functioning and profitable production studio.

And all Nico had to do was to get the owner on board.

"Looks like we got company," Happy said quietly from behind her and turning around, Nico could see that he was right as an old black sedan pulled to a stop next to Nico's car and she waited patiently as the man finally exited his vehicle.

Ronald Quigley was a short, stout man of indeterminate age. Wearing a dark navy blue suit that hung loosely about his sizeable frame, the man slowly made his way over.

"Are you the woman Barosky sent over?" Quigley inquired and was met with a sharp nod.

"That's right," she said as she held out a hand. "I'm Nico and this here is my associate."

Raising an eyebrow at the brevity of the introduction and eyeing the tall silent man dressed rather casually in a hoodie and jeans in stark contrast to the woman's neat business suit, Quigley returned the handshake and decided to get right to business. "So I understand that you are interested in my building."

"That's right," Nico affirmed. "I've been able to get an idea of the structural issues outside the building while I was waiting, so why don't you show me the inside?"

Leading the way, Quigley spent nearly an hour showing the building. As Nico had surmised, the building's space would be perfect for what the studio needed. It would however, require a lot of work to bring it up to specs and make it habitable. Following Quigley back down to the main floor, Nico waited patiently for the man to finish running down the building's selling points.

"So as you see," Quigley said genially, "this property is a great rental. You really haven't said what type of business you need it for or how much of the building you will need."

"No I haven't," Nico confirmed. "The fact is that the organization I represent will need the entire building—"

"That's sounds wonderful," Quigley interrupted and watched as Nico held up a hand.

"There's just one problem—we're not interested in renting." Nico paused for a beat. "We want to buy the building outright—that is once we have a proper inspection and can confirm the building is sound," and smirked to herself as she watched a decided frown creep over the man's features.

"What is this?" Quigley blustered. "I'm not selling this building and I don't know who told you that I was. Barosky knows that I'm only interested in renting out this facility on a month-by-month basis."

"Yes, Charles did inform me of that fact. However, I'd like to make you an offer that you won't refuse."

"Oh, really?" Quigley derided. "Well, girlie, I don't know what you think is going on here, but you are shit outta luck. This lot is not for sale."

"Because you believe that the U.S. government is interested in buying back this property for further development of the dockyard, right?" Nico said genially and watched the telltale flicker in Quigley's eyes that confirmed her speculation. "Well, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the expansion plans for the Stockton Navy Yard have been permanently derailed. It seems that the powers that be have decided to expand the dockyard in San Diego instead."

"You're dead wrong, missy."

"I'm sure you wish that but unfortunately I guess you haven't been keeping up with the news." Nico pulled out a folder and handed it to Quigley, who quickly opened it and drew out several newspaper clippings. The first and most predominant one was an article in the _San Diego Union-Tribune_. The front page article featured a picture of the yard with the headline "New Expansion of Navy Base San Diego."

Nico gave the man a sympathetic smile as he sputtered loudly as he hurriedly read the article. "As you can see, there is a direct quote in their from Blake Jordan, the Navy's spokesman stating that original plans for development at the Stockton Yard were scrapped when the Navy's architectural firm released its Feasibility Report. Apparently after an in depth examination of Stockton Yard and all of the logistics associated with redeveloping the site, it was recommended that expanding the dockyard at the Naval Base in San Diego would best suit its needs and be far more cost-effective."

"Damn it," he muttered angrily before looking up at Nico. "Okay, so maybe this shit," he shook the fisted articles, "is legit. It still doesn't mean that I have to sell this building to _you_."

"Well, I'm afraid that it does, Ralph," Nico said evenly and standing to the side, Happy watched as an implacable look of cold steel settled over her features. "I guess I should have properly introduced myself. My name is Nico…Nico _Torelli_. I'm sure you've heard that name before. Am I right?" Nico grinned cagily as Quigley stood nearly frozen in shock. "Not too many people are aware that the Torelli Syndicate has a surprising number of fingers in a lot of NorCal pies, and we especially like to keep a close eye on people who owe us a lot of fuckin' money. You know—like you, Ralph."

"Um, uh, look here, now," Quigley cast his eyes over towards the man at the woman's side in a completely new light, who was less like a business associate and more like an enforcer-slash-leg breaker. Turning to the seemingly cordial woman now suddenly-turned adversary, he began to sputter. "There's no need to get violent."

"Well, I don't personally like violence myself," Nico purred, "but my friend here he likes that shit, don'tcha Hap?"

"Like a lot," Happy replied as he looked at the now quivering mass in front of him.

"Fortunately for you, violence can be avoided," Nico said. "The Syndicate likes to take care of its faithful clients and you've been a good one for many years…or at least until recently."

"Yes, that's right," Quigley babbled. "I've always paid my gambling debts."

"Except that over the last six months you've been lagging behind. Then you added insult to injury and dropped a wad a couple of weeks ago. A word of advice, Ralph. You might want to stay away from betting on football. You're not too good at it and it's costing you a lot more than when you used to stick to poker at one of our gambling dens. You owe the Syndicate a pretty big marker. I'm sure you'd like nothing more than to pay what you owe and keep your health, right?"

Quigley nodded slowly. He could see where this was going and he didn't like it one bit, however as he eyed Happy, he realized that he liked spending the rest of his life on a ventilator a hell of a lot less.

"Yeah, I mean, yes I would."

"Good, because if you handle this right, you can pay off your debts, keep your health and maybe have a little walking around money to spare," Nico grinned.

"Now let's get down to business."

* * *

**_Woodbridge Forrest, CA—Wednesday, May 4, 2011_ **

Standing in a small clearing, Nico wondered what the hell she was doing out in the fucking bush.

_I'm a city girl. I would have thought that shit was painfully obvious to Happy._

The last thing the counselor had expected to be doing today was tromping around the NorCal wilderness. It was early in the morning, something Nico could be grateful for as it was still cool enough to provide a nice breeze before the real heat of the day intruded. The only good thing Nico could say about the expedition was the fact that Happy had arrived at her house just as she got out of the shower. It had made for a very pleasant morning. Even though it had required another shower, it had certainly put a little pep in her step. She had figured that he would pick up and shove off after he had thoroughly hit her shit. She hadn't expected to be ordered to put on suitable clothes because they were going to do some target practice.

After putting up a fuss, making several valid arguments as to why she needed to get to Unser's, Happy had arbitrarily dismissed her concerns and told her to get her ass in some clothes, grab her gun and be on the back of his ride in 10 minutes.

Twenty minutes later wearing a pair of dark wash skinny jeans with a matching jacket, a designer t-shirt, and a pair of chic booties, Nico was plastered snuggly against Happy's muscular body as they made their way out of Charming and towards Woodbridge Forrest. Happy claimed it was the perfect place for him to evaluate her skills and for her to get a little target practice in too. They were half way to their destination before Nico finally admitted that _maybe_ playing a little hooky from work would be a good thing. But the woman who had been marching to the beat of her own drum ever since she shed the shackles of her life with her ex was not about to let the ornery biker she was riding bitch with know it.

Now Nico crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed Happy busy at his work. Twenty feet away the biker was setting out a mix of cans and beer bottles on top of a rough outcropping of boulders. The man was ambitious as he placed no less than five bottles and cans of varying sizes before he turned and headed back in her direction.

"I don't know what the fuck I am doing out here in the bushes, Hap. This isn't necessary. I've got work to do. Besides, I already told Jax that I know how to shoot."

"That's what you told _him_. I'll believe that shit when I see it," Happy retorted. Folding his arms over his chest, he glared at her. "So, let me see your gun."

With a sigh, Nico shoved her hand into her cross body bag and retrieved the gun, along with a clip and a box of bullets.

"Damn, Tiny, that's a real gun you got there," Happy grinned as he took the gun from her. "Clay is definitely right. Italians _do_ love their Glocks."

"I don't know about that shit. As long as it shoots bullets, I gotta believe any kind will do."

"That's where you're wrong." Happy opened his kutte to reveal his own Glock resting in a shoulder holster. "Not all guns are created equal. The Glock is a superior weapon, although I have to say this might be a little too much for you to handle." Handing the weapon back to her, butt first, Happy said, "Let me see it in your hand."

Taking the gun, Nico gripped it in her right hand, curling it around the base and using her left hand cupped it from the opposite side, holding it in a tight grip.

"Well, at least you know how to hold it," Happy grunted. "How does it feel in your hand?"

Nico shrugged. "I can hold it, but it's kind of heavy."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Happy took the gun back from her and demonstrated his grip. "It's a good size for me, but for you it will probably beat your hand to shit from the recoil. Where'd you get this?"

"My uncle gave it to me."

"I woulda thought he would know better. This ain't made for you, Tiny, but for right now, it's gonna have to do." Handing it back to her, he pulled the clip out of his pocket. "Show me how to load it."

Slightly rolling her eyes, Nico took it and slid it into the butt. Flicking off the safety and pointing the gun towards the ground, she pulled back the slide on top of the barrel to load the first bullet into the chamber. "See? I told you I know how to do it."

"That's the easy part. Now let's see if you can actually hit something." Standing behind her, Happy turned her to face the row of cans. With his body so closely next to her, Nico could smell the heady mix of cologne and cigarettes. Bending his head towards her, he murmured into her ear. "Show me your stance," he instructed.

Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand and not Happy's semi-hard dick that was pressing into her lower back, Nico again gripped the gun in her hands. With her feet slightly apart and firmly planted into the ground, she took aim on her selected target—a beer bottle directly in the middle.

Adjusting her stance, lowering her raised arms slightly, Happy nodded. "Now, I want you to think about what you're trying to do, which is to put a nice sized hole into the mutherfucka who's trying to kill you—"

"Hap, it's a beer bottle," Nico whined.

"Right now it's a big son of a bitch who's trying to take your ass out and I don't mean on a fuckin' date. Now concentrate."

"Oh all right, already." Nico blew a stray hair out of her eyes and focused. "Now what?"

"Simple. I want you to gently pull the trigger. Don't jerk it like you're playing the slot machines at one of your casinos, a'ight?"

"Fine," she muttered. Suddenly determined to show the outlaw that she could shoot with the best of them, Nico carefully aimed and then fired.

And missed.

"Shit," she growled as the beer bottle-slash-bad motherfucker sat completely unharmed.

"Not as easy as it looks, huh?" Happy quipped. "I guess your uncle was right to want someone to look after your ass since you can't seem to do this shit yourself," he said mockingly.

 _That ought to get a rise outta Tiny_ , Happy grinned.

"I'll show you _and_ him," Nico promised. An entire clip later, including a lesson on how to load a clip with bullets and Nico still had not managed to hit one target.

"Damn, I didn't think I was this bad," Nico muttered a little dejectedly.

Happy bit back a smile. It seemed that the little Italian diva was used to being the best at just about everything and was unused to being defeated. Although Happy was concerned about Nico's ability to protect herself, he had to admit that he liked seeing that she wasn't perfect. It was rather humanizing seeing her frustration at her efforts, but he believed that with a little hard work, she would soon get the hang of it.

"I tell you what, let's finish out this clip and call it a day."

"So you're going to let me roam the streets not knowing how to defend myself?" Nico said disbelievingly.

"Nah, Tiny. It just means that you and I are going to be spending a lot more time together until you get this shit down." Seeing her suddenly relieved grin, Happy smirked. "But you _are_ going to hit one of these bitches today before we leave. Come on. I'm going to give you a little help."

Pulling her body flush against his, Happy once again lined Nico up for a shot, but this time he wrapped his long arms around her and placed his hands over hers. "Now, I'm going to line this bitch up for you, but you're going to fire…and this time I want you to kill this fucker. Imagine his guts all over the ground. Got me?"

"I got you." Snuggled firmly in his embrace, Nico allowed herself to enjoy the moment before refocusing on the task at hand. "Okay, let's do this."

With Happy guiding her, Nico took aim. Slowly inhaling and with her teacher carefully guiding her, she exhaled and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun shot reverberating through the forest was the same as before, but this time it was accompanied by a loud shattering of glass.

"I did it!" she crowed as she looked up Happy. "Did you see that shit?"

"I saw it, Tiny," he said with approval. "You did good."

"Well, mostly that shit was you—" she started.

"Nah, you did good," Happy repeated, focusing on her wide blue eyes. "Tiny little blue eyed bitch," he muttered, sudden desire overtaking him.

"You know I don't like when you call me a bi—" Nico sputtered and suddenly found her mouth full of hot biker tongue. Returning the favor, Nico's tongue dueled with Happy's.

Not focusing as Happy carefully removed the gun from her hand or the click of the safety being flipped on, the small thump of the gun hitting ground barely registered as Happy reached around to cup her ass in his two large hands.

Hoisting Nico up, Happy growled as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Tearing his mouth away from his, he looked around and headed towards his bike which was parked next to a large oak tree that would definitely fit the bill.

 _Shit, I better have a condom in my wallet_ , he thought as he strode towards the tree holding a tiny sexy ball of fire in his arms.

"Shit killer, we gonna do this out here, in nature and shit?"

"Why not? I never took you as shy," he muttered as he fastened his lips on hers again.

"Maybe you're right," she said throatily. Dropping her legs from around his waist, Nico shoved Happy away from her before ripping off her denim jacket and tossing it on the grass. "In fact, we're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere, right? So why don't we get really free with our shit?" she challenged, stripping off her t-shirt. She nearly grinned as she saw the hardened outlaw's eyes widen in surprise.

"Are you kidding me, Tiny?"

Nico slowly shook her head as she yanked her boots off and tossed them over her shoulder. "What, Hap? Are you scared?"

"Hell no!" he retorted. "You think you can go there Tiny?" Happy growled as he took off his kutte and hung it over his bike's handlebars.

"I'm already there," she purred as she shimmied out of her tight jeans, "but can you?"

"Stop wasting time, Hap and get naked," Nico ordered.

"You think you running shit?"

Nico held out her arms to encompass the pretty wooded fields. "We're not in Charming, so yeah. Right now, _I'm_ calling the shots."

"We'll see about that," Happy growled as captured her face in his hands and moved in for a slow kiss.

Sudden urgency claimed a hold of them both as Nico pressed her body into his in sweet surrender. There was no need to force her tongue past his lips as they instantly set about exploring each other's mouths, tasting one another amidst feverish and lusty moans.

Happy, it seemed, could no longer control his animal-like need for her. She had been driving him fucking crazy all day, her tight little ass rubbing itself against his evermore needy cock. Absently he realized that too much Tiny was never enough as he ran his hands along her naked flesh, never taking his lips off of hers. Operating on pure instinct alone, Nico let her hands fall to the belt practically holding his jeans up. Fumbling clumsily as she resisted coming up for air, it took her longer than she could possibly stand to get his pants open before letting them drop around his ankles. She instantly seared her hands on his hot, naked skin as she wickedly realized that Happy had gone sans underwear or as he would say, "commando".

Trailing her hands over his well-defined abs, she finally came into contact with her Holy Grail, his rock hard cock. Growling in frustration at the feather-light touch on first the hood then shaft of his rigid dick, Happy gave her a not so-gentle push, breaking their kiss.

"Fuck," he groaned as heated desire throbbed to the very core of his being. In a flash, he kicked off his boots and pulled off his t-shirt as he impatiently stepped out of his jeans. With all barriers between them now gone, Happy gave Nico another not-so-gentle nudge, pushing her up against a tall towering oak behind her.

Falling into a squat in front of her, Nico gasped as Happy ran his work-roughened hands along her inner thighs. Her head reeling with lusty passion, Nico hastily grabbed the low-hanging branch just above her head to steady herself. Slowly spreading her eager and already wet lips with his fingers, Happy practically shoved his face in between her legs and tasted her warm sweet nectar now flowing like honey.

Unable to control the jolt of pleasure that nearly knocked her off her feet, Nico tightened her grip on the branch with one hand as the other pulled Happy towards her by the back of his bald head. Spreading her legs ever-so wider, she allowed Happy full access to her sweetness which he proceeded to devour greedily.

Coming up for air with a cocky smirk as Nico's long and drawn out moans grew louder, Happy grabbed her hips and positioned Nico so that she was practically sitting on his shoulders, angled in such a way that allowed him complete and easy access to her hot wet pussy.

Plunging his tongue into her juicy folds, he licked and sucked on her inner lips before sucking her swollen clit into this mouth. She was thrashing now, her head whipping from side to side as she maintained a relentless hold on the back of his. Sliding his tongue up and down her delicious slit, he finally allowed himself access to her juicy hole, first lapping up her freely flowing juices before penetrating and tongue-fucking her to the brink.

Rocking back and forth while simultaneously grinding her pussy against his hungry mouth, it didn't take Nico long before she was writhing with the need for release.

"Oh God, Happy! I'm gonna cum!"

Happy immediately pulled away, forcing Nico to land unsteadily on her bare feet. "No you're not." He smirked as he pulled himself up to tower over the now-indignant pixie. "Who's running shit now, huh, Tiny?"

"Asshole!" Nico nearly stomped her feet, but if she was honest with herself, if there was a man alive she loved submitting to, it was definitely Happy Lowman.

Happy pulled her hand away from the branch she was still using to steady herself. With a point of his finger and a slight nod of his head, he silently commanded Nico to get on her hands and knees on the blanket of moss beneath them. Surprising Happy as well as herself, Nico quickly obeyed.

She closed her eyes against the sudden warm and gentle breeze. She reveled in the sheer sexiness of the soft forest floor beneath her hands and knees and felt emboldened by the fact that they were completely exposed to the world in the middle of this peaceful forest.

She opened her eyes to find Happy standing directly in front of her, affording her an eyeful of his impressive cock. He saw the exact moment her brilliantly dark blue eyes glazed over with raw need.

Fuck! He had never wanted any woman as much as he wanted the one kneeling before him.

"I want to feel the back of your fucking throat, Tiny," Happy uttered with throaty desire. "And then I'm claiming that pussy." He positioned himself before her and Nico opened wide to oblige him by taking as much of his massive cock as her small mouth could accommodate.

Her mouth was so warm, wet and soft that Happy groaned as the sheer pleasure of it wrapped around his cock sent waves coursing through him. Sucking on his pulsating cock with great determination, Nico relaxed her throat and achieved the near-impossible: she deep-throated Happy. Nothing mattered more to her at this very moment than pleasing him.

Happy buried his hands in her thick hair and gently fucked her face.

"Shit! Tiny! Fuck!" he growled. Every time she moaned as she tried to take more of him in sent a tremor of pleasure down to the base of his cock and straight up his spine, causing tingly bubbles of pleasure to explode in his brain.

Now they were both more than primed and ready.

Pulling his cock out of Nico's mouth, Happy noticed strings of her saliva dripping from the head as he dropped to his own knees behind her. Roughly grabbing her by the hips, he proceeded to mount her from behind, shoving himself inside of her as Nico pushed back against him, accepting every last inch of him and covering his manhood with her dripping wet pussy.

Pounding her round ass hard, Happy held onto her hips to steady himself as his with each thrust he forced her tight little pussy to open wider for him. And oh, fuck, was she ever tight! _At first_. As he continued to push further into her supple and yielding body, her steamy velvet sheath expanded and accepted him willingly.

It wasn't long before Happy felt her muscles tighten even firmer around his cock. Nico wailed out in pleasure as she rode the wave of the powerful orgasm that rocked her to her very soul.

Unable to contain himself any longer, it was during his final thrusts that Happy realized he had forgotten to wrap his junk.

 _What does it fucking matter? All that matters is this shit right here_ , he thought as he thrust hard into her, sending his hot load deep into her hungry pussy. With each pleasurable ripple that coursed through his body, Happy shoved himself in deeper so that she could accept every last drop of his cum.

And just like that they both collapsed to the mossy ground, each trying to catch their breath, their bodies vibrating with the final aftershocks of ecstasy.

As their breathing started to normalize, Nico rolled over on their earthy blanket to face Happy, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Happy reached for her, gently engulfing the tiny bundle in his arms and kissed her.

She was likely still drunk from the flood of endorphins released into her system, but Nico had never felt so loved and cared for in the embrace of a man who had just fucked the shit out of her.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

 

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Thursday, May 5, 2011** _

The early morning sun filtered through the small bedroom's lone window. As the sun cast shadows onto the wall, Nico sleepily thought that the pattern resembled a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors.

Snuggling down in the warmth of the comforter, Nico sighed with contentment and felt incredibly well rested. Her legs, however, felt like they were encased in long and hairy leg warmers, and not the kind made of cashmere either—the really scratchy, woolly kind.

 _Wait a minute_ , Nico thought blearily. _Hairy_?

Slowly shifting her body, Nico's eyes popped wide open.

 _I'm not fucking alone_!

Slowly turning her head, Nico found it hard not to squeal aloud in shock. Happy Lowman was stretched out against her, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist and his heavy right leg was thrown across hers trapping her against the mattress.

 _Happy stayed the night_ , she thought a little stupefied and then grinned widely. _No wonder I slept like a rock_.

It had been a pretty sore, but completely satisfied woman who had made her way back to Charming with Happy after her training session.

It wasn't just the sex that had been satisfying, however. While Happy had been incredibly forceful and commanding, he had been extremely giving as well. Up until that moment, what she and Hap had experienced was some really, _really_ good fucking. But yesterday, it was as if the sex had quite literally transformed from just fucking to making love, a real sharing between them.

And for Nico, it was slightly terrifying.

After lying in the grassy meadow in a sex coma for nearly twenty minutes, Happy had stood up and had gently pulled her to her feet. They had both been quiet as they gathered their clothing and dressed, not sharing in their usual banter after a feisty round of sex. Instead, Happy had straddled his ride and gave a silent command for her to get on his bitch seat before they headed back to Charming and pulled into her driveway next to her car in record time.

As Nico got off and removed Happy's helmet, he had pulled her against him and had given her a soul searing kiss before telling her to get her ass in the house, backing out of the driveway and roaring down the street.

Nico did as she was told and took a long cleansing shower before changing into proper business attire before showing up at U-T. Despite her careful attention to detail, however, it was Lyla who had reached over and pulled out a small twig that had apparently been caught in her hair.

"Uh, were you rolling around in the dirt this morning?" the blonde-headed fairy had quipped with a laugh and Nico quickly came up with a convenient lie.

She had spent the rest of the day working tirelessly in the office before heading home that evening. The last thing Nico had expected, however, was for Happy to show up with a bag of takeout from Hanna's Diner.

"You don't eat enough," he had said gruffly. "I got some shit to do for the Club, but I might stop by later." The outlaw had surprisingly kissed her gently on the mouth before heading back to his ride as she stood on her doorstep holding the bag of food in disbelief.

So instead of eating the healthy boring salad she had intended to prepare, Nico had sat down to a hearty meatloaf special with all the fixings and a couple of glasses of wine wondering what in the world Happy was up to. Not really dwelling on the ramifications of a man bringing food to a woman, after her meal Nico had spent the next couple of hours getting ready for Happy's return, cleaning the small home with a vengeance, putting fresh sheets on the bed and thoroughly grooming herself.

Nico had become accustomed to Happy's usual M.O., which was showing up at her doorstep late at night, before a little or a lot of foreplay—it depended on the mood he was in—which would then lead to him thoroughly banging the hell out of her. Then after a couple of hours dozing and usually one more round of sex, he would practically drag her out of bed on quivering legs to lock the door behind him, which was what she had expected would happen again.

But not this morning. This time, Happy had stayed through the entire night.

Now determined to wake him up, Nico managed with much effort to twist around to face him, which was pretty difficult considering the fact that his leg had her pinned down pretty well. Happy looked so peaceful in his sleep. _Probably the only time he wasn't causing some shit_ , Nico smothered a laugh. Reaching out, she boldly traced the outline of the tattoo that surrounded his collarbone. With the lightest of strokes, Nico traced out _I Kill_ , as Happy inhaled and exhaled deeply.

With a tongue peeping out between her teeth, Nico continued on her travels and bit back a laugh as Happy pulled his arm from around her waist to swat at his neck. Reaching out again, she started to trace the next words.

"Tiny, I swear if you don't stop playing with shit, I'm going to spank that ass of yours," Happy mumbled.

"Promise?" she quipped and grinned as she watched him open his eyes into a narrow slit. "You know we haven't really gotten into that a lot, Hap. Maybe we can switch up roles and I can spank your ass?" she said hopefully.

"Not a fuckin' chance, Tiny." At this Happy opened his eyes wide and surveyed the tousled heap of a woman propped up against him. "Shit, what time is it?"

Nico stretched over to her night stand to retrieve her cell phone. "It's about 7:00…in the morning," and saw instantly the moment her statement hit home.

_Oh, yeah, buddy, that's right. You stayed the night!_

* * *

Happy ran a hand over his lightly bristled head.

 _Well how the fuck did I do that shit_? he wondered as he looked at the tiny grinning woman next to him.

During his years as a biker, Happy had managed to avoid repeating the one mistake that 99% of the male species had failed to learn: never stay the night. Doing so gave rise to hopes and desires that had had many a bitch starting to think of a future of permanence, fidelity, long white dresses, flowers, rings and all kinds of wedding shit. He had learned early on that it was always best to do a hit and run and it had served him well ever since he hit his 20's, his only failure to abide by his self-imposed rule was in his dealings with Sharon Guthrie.

There was only one woman who seemed to share his own sentiment and had gone as far as ducking out on him, not once, but twice and that was the woman who was currently lying next to him. Tiny was probably the only bitch he knew who understood that the fuck 'em and duck 'em lifestyle worked to her advantage too.

But as he lay next to her now, Happy had to admit that on some real shit, it was really something to wake up to the sexy woman. The problem now was, was he gonna own that shit or ignore it. Having already lost his head by breaking his rule to never, _ever_ fuck a woman without suiting up, the outlaw needed to figure out just where this shit with Tiny was headed. The possibility that even now, his sperm could be cooking inside Tiny was stirring up feelings inside him that were dangerous and terrifying. Tabling that shit, he eyed the woman who was curled up beside him.

"Sleep well?" Nico offered.

"Yeah," Happy replied quietly. "Yeah, I really did. How about you?"

"Like a rock. I think that was probably the best night of sleep since I came to Charming." Nico grinned as she enjoyed a full body stretch. "Especially when you didn't wake my ass up to let you out before the ass crack of dawn, Killer." She reached out to stroke his grizzled chin. "I think this is a first for us, waking up together."

"Yeah," Happy said offhandedly. "It's a'ight."

_Humph. It's better than 'a'ight', but it's okay if you wanna play it cool Ace. I can do the same._

"Well, since you were nice enough to feed me yesterday, I guess I should return the favor, huh? What do you say? You up for some breakfast?"

"Well, I don't know. What exactly do you have in mind?" he snarked. "Some cold cereal?"

Nico rolled her eyes dramatically "What if I _cooked_ you something to eat?"

"Really? Cook some food, like on a real stove? 'Cause the last time you fed my ass, everything came outta a jar, Tiny."

Pulling a pillow from behind her head, Nico leveled it at Happy catching him square in the face. "It was the middle of the fuckin' night, you ass. You were fortunate I even got out of bed to get you shit."

Tossing the pillow across the room, Happy reached over and grabbed a squealing Nico, tossing her down before straddling her. "You need to learn Tiny not to get ornery with a biker before you feed his ass."

"Oh really?" she said throatily as she wiggled her naked body against his own. "And just what are you gonna do to me? Punish me?" she said hopefully.

"Let me show you."

* * *

Sitting next to Tiny, Happy drained his coffee cup dry and placed it on the table in front of him. "Shit, Tiny. I have to admit that was pretty good."

"Of course it was. I told you I could cook," Nico retorted as she reached over to pour herself more coffee. "You want some more food?"

"Nah, girl. I don't think I have any more room."

After punishing and pleasuring Tiny with his dick, Happy had lain in bed while Nico had taken a quick shower and then left him to his own devices while she prepared breakfast. Sure that Nico had been exaggerating her prowess in the kitchen, Happy had stepped out of the shower to the aromatic smells of what was a full breakfast spread.

Drying off using one of the thick and plushy towels Nico had left for his use, Happy threw on his jeans and made his way past the dining room table that was already set with plates and flatware. Quietly swinging the door open, he leaned against the doorframe had watched Nico with varying degrees of appreciation. Having seen the woman in many guises, the last one he was expecting was her domesticated ass standing over a hot stove. Nico looked beautiful wearing a bright red silk robe, a large apron tied about her small body and her hair swept up in a messy knot at the top of her head as she swayed back and forth as Hall & Oates' _Sarah Smiles_ played on an I-Phone dock on the counter.

Without her heels, Tiny was even smaller than usual and seeing her without her customary garb of a designer power suit and bitch heels that she wore like an invincible suit of armor to the world, feelings of protectiveness caused Happy's chest tighten unexpectedly with tenderness. It was a rare feeling, one he only ever experienced with the women of his family and for a moment the outlaw biker was stymied as to how Tiny had so thoroughly burrowed herself into his life and why this shit was happening to him.

"Are you ready to eat or are you gonna stare at my ass all day?"

Happy snorted, irritated at being caught. "I can do both."

"Well, get to the table," she ordered. "This food is ready. I'll be there in a minute."

Nico made several trips setting out a full buffet of food. Soon the table was filled with platters of scrambled eggs with cheese and chives, bacon, sausage, whole wheat toast, home fries and, to Happy's surprise, his favorite—pancakes.

On her final trip, Nico appeared sans apron but with a French Press carafe of black coffee and a jug of orange juice. "Help yourself. I've probably offended every woman libber I know by fixing your ass breakfast after fucking you, but I draw the line at serving too. You've got hands, so use 'em," she instructed as she picked up a plate.

Happy raised an eyebrow. "No paper?" he snarked.

Nico rolled her eyes. "As my mother would say, the table is for _eating_ , not _reading_ ," she informed him. " _Mangia_. Now."

_Sounds like my Ma and Tiny's were separated at birth._

Happy had and had to admit that the vittles were damn good. He especially loved the pancakes, which Nico had served with warm maple syrup, whipped butter and chopped pecans.

 _Shit, I could really get use to this_ , he thought as he used the final bite of his pancakes to swirl up the last bit of butter and syrup.

"Damn, Tiny. If I knew you cooked like this, I would have had your ass in the kitchen the first day you showed up in Charming."

Nico flashed him a brilliant but snarky smile. "Yeah, well if your ass hadn't run out on me in Reno you would have gotten the full spread back then," she advised. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was the least I could do considering you dropped off that meal last night. It was pretty good too. To be honest I was so tired, all I was going to do was toss together a garden salad for dinner."

"Which is why you need to eat more. You need to keep up your stamina if you're gonna continue fucking me on the regular."

"Nag, nag, nag," Nico said teasingly. "You sound like my mother. You better be careful outlaw. You keep sounding like Rosanna Torelli and it's going to be a real fuckin' turnoff when you try to hit my shit."

Happy picked up the glass and drained the last bit of his orange juice. "So did your mom teach you how to cook?"

Nico nodded. "Yes. Rosanna Torelli was a stickler when it came to a woman's role within the male-dominated society that is the Italian family. Learning how to cook was an absolute necessity for every Torelli female regardless of the fact that at the time I preferred trailing after my father while he was working."

"So I guess your old man was kind of limited in what he could show you, you being a kid and all. It's not like he could dial you into the real family business."

"No, but unlike my older sisters I had a lot more knowledge about my father's business dealings than they did." She grinned as Happy raised an eyebrow. "Despite what others in the family thought, I was pretty observant as a kid. While I didn't know all the dark and unseemly shit that the family was involved in, I was perceptive enough to realize that my father and my uncle were a lot closer to being cool and hip gangsters than just casino and restaurant owners. One day my father decided it was time to tell me the truth. I was 12 when Papa sat me down and told me about the family—at least as much of what he felt he could share without taking the shine off of him and completely messing with my headspace. I felt really special, knowing that he chose to tell me the truth about how he earned his living."

"It didn't scare you one bit, did it?" Happy smirked.

"Nope," Nico shook her head slowly. "Regardless of what the family was into, I worshipped my father and wanted to be like him—someone who loves and protects his family. I still do." Although her face reflected the pride that she felt for her father, it was mixed with sadness and fear, something that Happy had never seen in Tiny. She was probably the most fearless woman he'd ever known, with the exception of the women in his family.

"How's he doing in the joint?" Happy nodded inwardly with approval as Tiny managed to pull herself together as she suddenly smiled with confidence.

"He's doing better. We're making progress on getting him an early compassionate release. It's a delicate balance, but the lawyers I've retained are confident that they will be able to get him out in the next three to six months." Nico eyed Happy a little suspiciously. "You know Killer, I find it interesting how you can manage to pull shit out of me that I don't intend to share, but when it comes to you, you're like a fucking vault. What about your old man? Do you have a relationship with him?"

For a moment, Happy considered his words carefully, thinking to find a way to shelve the topic permanently, so it was a surprise to himself when he responded with the truth. "He's dead. Died when I was 3."

"Oh damn, Hap," Nico reached across to place a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"It's a'ight. It was a long time ago. I barely remember him."

"If you don't mind my asking," she hesitated, "how did he—"

"Wrong place, wrong time. He stopped by this little Bodega in the 'hood to pick up some flowers for my mother. He used to do that shit all the time, at least that was what Ma said. She loves fresh flowers. Anyway, some asshole came in to rob the place. The owner's pregnant wife was there and he grabbed her, threatened to shoot her if her husband didn't give up the cash. My father tried to help. He saved her, but got a bullet in the head for his trouble."

"Oh God, Happy. That's so horrible."

"Yeah well, shit happens." Happy shrugged his shoulders philosophically. "My mom is a survivor, though. She managed to bring me up, and her stubborn ass sister helped too."

"Did your Mother ever remarry?" Nico asked.

"Nah, there was no need for her to do that shit," Happy said irritably. "Besides, she was too busy working and looking after my ass. A man around would just have been a distraction."

Nico twisted her lips as she eyed him. "Uh huh," she said dryly. "Do you have a picture of her?"

"What is this, twenty fuckin' questions?"

"Oh come on Hap. You can't tell me you don't have _one_ picture of your Mom."

"Shit," Happy muttered. "Persistent bitches." As Nico glared at him, he shrugged. "A'ight already! I think I got one in my wallet."

Like a shot, Nico jumped up from the table. "I'll get it," she said as she trotted towards her bedroom and moments later reappeared with his wallet in hand.

"Give it here," Happy ordered and held out his hand.

"Nope, not doing it," she said as she ran around to the opposite side of the dining room table. "Let's see what you got in here." The wallet although old was made of good quality leather. Flipping it open to focus on the driver's license, Nico let out a screech of laughter. "OMG, you had hair!? I thought you were just bald from birth! Aw, you were freaking adorable," she cooed as she pulled out the I.D. "Look at you trying to look all hard and tough. Probably practicing your look for your fuckin' mug shot! How old were you here?"

Happy rolled his eyes. _Women._ "16, 17, I guess."

"And you never took an updated picture?"

"Didn't see the need."

"Or maybe your arrogant ass knew you were sexy as hell with a full head of hair. I mean I really like the tat," Nico looked at the intricately designed snake tattoo on his head, "but what made you cut it all off?"

"Because I wanted to," he blustered. "Damn, you sound like Ma."

Reminded about the woman who gave birth to the ornery biker, Nico bypassed Happy's medical insurance card, the one lone credit card that he probably _never_ used and the large wad of cash as she dug impatiently through the wallet looking for the photo. "Where the fuck is it?" she demanded.

"That's why I wanted you to give it here."

Sighing, Nico walked over and plopped herself down in the chair caddy cornered to Happy and handed over the wallet and watched as he opened it and reached into a narrow slit that in her haste had gone completely unnoticed. "A secret compartment?" she squealed. "You keep it in there?"

"Yeah, so that nosey bitches like you don't get into shit," Happy retorted. Sliding his fingers inside the slit, Nico watched as Happy withdrew not one, but two pictures.

"Let me see them," she demanded.

Instead, Happy handed over just one. "You only asked to see a picture of Ma, so that's what you're getting."

Rolling her eyes, Nico gently took the picture. The 4" square photo was a portrait of a stunningly beautiful woman in her 30's with thick dark, wavy hair the color of sable, an oval face with delicately curved lips, strongly defined cheekbones and chin, with skin tone the color of warm caramel and dark brown eyes that were an exact match for her son. "Oh, Hap, she's absolutely gorgeous! What's her name? Has she changed much after all these years?" and watched as a look of pride swept across his face.

"Her name's Amelia. She may be getting up there, but Ma's still an attractive woman. She's older, but there's just a beauty about her that ain't just her looks, though. She's a good woman who cares too much about people sometimes but I believe that's helped to keep her beautiful, even when the breast cancer came."

"She survived," Nico stated with conviction and watched as he nodded.

"Yeah. Nothing can keep that woman down, not even a son like me who was in and of trouble too many times to count."

Hearing Happy nearly wax poetically about the woman who gave birth to him was somewhat shocking to Nico, but incredibly endearing. "Well, knowing you, I would have to think you'd had to get that stubborn, crazy part of your personality from somewhere," Nico snarked as she handed the photo back to him. "Do you see her often?"

Happy shook his head. "She lives in Bakersfield. I try and go down there every couple of months to check up on her stubborn ass. She was here in Charming last year getting knee replacement surgery for a few months and Marlowe came down to watch over her while I was busy with Club shit."

"And that's how Marlowe met Jax," Nico concluded.

"Yeah. Marley was supposed to go back with Ma after she finished her rehab, but by that time Jax decided that he wanted to keep her crazy ass around. I told him if he could deal with her I didn't have a problem with it and after we took Ma home and got her settled, Marley came back to Charming.

"Ma's not alone though. My aunt retired as a school teacher so they spend a lot of time together, as Marley would testify to, just a couple of old school _Cholas_ fighting all the damn time."

Suddenly, Happy rolled his eyes as Nico held out her hand. "What?" he said brusquely.

"I wanna see the other one. What, you thought I would forget? I'm a lawyer. I don't forget shit."

"You wanna see it, then you got one shot to guess who's in it, otherwise you ain't seeing shit. And you can't pick my Ma either," Happy retorted and watched as Nico folded her arms across her chest.

"It's Marlowe," Nico said confidently and held out her hand.

For a long moment, Happy just stared at her. And then stared some more.

"C'mon outlaw, give it here. I don't have all fucking day," Nico grinned. "Let me see it."

 _This_ _is why I don't sleep over, damn it_ , Happy thought irritably before he reluctantly handed over the picture.

Nico spent several minutes quietly observing the picture. The saying that a picture paints a thousand words was definitely true and in this case as Nico noted every detail there was a definite story of love and protection that was clearly evident.

It was an old Polaroid picture, one of those instant photos that often faded over time. This one had to be nearly 20 years old and yet despite its age it was still vivid and two of the three subjects were smiling brightly.

Sitting on an oversized sofa with a pretty floral design was Amelia Lowman. Wearing an attractive shirtwaist dress of deep blue, it clung to a rather voluptuous figure.

Amelia was probably so radiant in part because of the brawny arm that was thrown casually around her shoulders. Happy, sporting a full head of closely cropped thick black hair stared at the camera, his youthful features belying the fact the despite his age he had already lived a full and hard life on the fringes of society. Wearing a kutte proclaiming him to be a Son of Anarchy, he was obviously making an effort to twist his lips into a wry smile.

But it was the smallest person in the photo whose wide beaming smile over crooked teeth, bright gray eyes, and wavy hair—a mix of blond and caramel—that leapt out of the photo. Marlowe Guthrie was sandwiched protectively between Amelia and Happy. Wearing a pair of denim shorts and an oversized yellow t-shirt with a huge smiley face, Marlowe glowed with joy and peace as she leaned her narrow frame against Happy's, her small hand entwined in his.

"Wow Hap," Nico sighed as she held the picture. "If I hadn't seen it I'm not sure I would have believed it. Who would have thought that the kick ass hospital corpsman was once so small and sweet looking?"

"Marley might have been small, but she was anything but sweet," Happy replied as he leaned towards Nico to take a closer look at his family. "She was a hell-raiser from the first time I met her, and she sure is shit hasn't changed."

"How old was she here?"

Happy's lips curved upward. "Shit, that day was her birthday. She was 11."

"Damn, she was really small for her age," Nico remarked.

"Yeah, she was, but she could hold her own. I taught her well."

"I'm sure you did." Nico grinned. "So what did you get her?"

"Say what?"

"For her birthday, asshole. You can't tell me you didn't get her a present." Suddenly it hit Nico. "Wait a minute." Looking again at the photo she smirked. "You got her that t-shirt she's wearing, didn't you?"

 _Smart bitch_. "So what if I did?" Happy said grouchily.

 _You branded her as your own even then_ , Nico thought. _You may be a crazy son of a bitch but there's no doubt in my mind that you were a good father to Marlowe._

"Look, I knew Ma would give me some shit if I didn't bring her something so I picked it up while I was on the road is all. Ma had been taking care of her for about a year when she and my Aunt Ceci threw her a little birthday dinner. Ceci took this pic."

"According to Marlowe you had a lot to do with that, her ending up with your mom." Nico watched as Happy shrugged his shoulders.

"That shit is debatable."

Nico fingered one of the photo's worn edges. "You've been carrying this around for a long time," she noted.

Happy waived his hand in dismissal. "I've been meaning to clear that shit out. I just forgot it was in there," Happy lied.

"Oh yeah, you needed to throw this shit out because you _clearly_ don't have enough room in your wallet for the three itty bitty cards you have in there," Nico said sardonically. "It's okay Killer. I've got your number," she whispered, "and your secret is safe with me."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he protested.

Handing back the photo, Nico stood up and bent over to briefly kiss Happy on the lips before starting to clear the table. "Time to clean this mess up," Nico quipped. Turning she headed towards the kitchen, using her hip to bump open the swinging door. "You know Hap, despite that hard shell you walk around with it's obvious that you care deeply for the women in your life. It's not a crime you know, but you better be careful. You keep bringing me food and teaching my ass how to shoot bad motherfuckers, and I'm gonna start thinking you really care about my ass too," she said with a snarky grin before walking through the swinging door.

As the door swung closed behind her, Happy muttered, "Maybe I do."

Hearing the door swing open behind her, Nico turned from her position at the dishwasher and watched Happy bring in the rest of the dirty dishes.

"OMG," she yelped, dramatically putting a hand over her heart.

"What? What the fuck's wrong?"

"Well, if those pictures hadn't sealed the deal for me, this shit has done it. Oh, it's official. I've had my suspicions for a long time, but it's a definite now. You are a Mama's boy."

"Shut the fuck up," Happy retorted.

"Oh, no outlaw. I know a mama's boy when I see one. I grew up with one for over 30 years. You might be able to hide it from your brothers—well, not from Jax, 'cause I'm pretty sure he's one too," Nico grinned impishly, "but you feeding my ass and seeing those photos and now here you are picking up your dishes and bringing them in here is a dead ass giveaway. I bet your mama didn't take any shit from anybody, least of all you."

Nico watched the biker scowl as he slammed the dishes on top of the counter. "You better watch that shit, Tiny."

"Or what?" she teased. "What are you gonna do about it?" Nico watched as he stalked towards her around the island.

"Why don't I show you? We ain't christened this counter yet—" Happy started but suddenly the noise of a loud vibrating phone against its resting place on the island interrupted them.

"Oh, shit. I bet you it's Jax looking to mess with my morning," Nico started, but as she spotted the name flashing across the screen, her teasing disappeared and she became serious. "Shit," she repeated as she snatched up the phone. "Hey, Zio. How are—," she started and was suddenly silent.

From his position next to the island, Happy watched as she ran her hand over the messy top knot spilling her hair over her shoulders. As the conversation continued and Nico launched into a spate of angry Italian, Happy knew that it wasn't good. Walking out of the room, he headed for the bedroom in order to retrieve the rest of his shit. It would seem that for the moment, their fun and games were over, and considering how the morning had unfolded, maybe the interruption was a good thing.

* * *

_**Stockton CA—Friday, May 12, 2011** _

It was a long day and Georgie Caruso was pretty damn tired. As far as he was concerned, travelling first class on a 17-hour flight from Thailand was still a bitch.

Despite the exhausting travel, his trip had been a roaring success. Becoming partners with the Tanaka Family had been the best move of his career, and now Georgie was poised to make a whole lot of fucking money, practically without lifting a finger. Over the last few years, Georgie had come to realize that he was getting tired of producing porn. All the headaches associated with developing and stealing new talent was physically draining. People in the film industry who worked in the legitimate world of Hollywood sneered and talked a whole lot of shit about the relative ease of producing porn flics, but they had absolutely no clue just how hard and competitive the adult entertainment business actually was or the toll it took on beleaguered producers to continually amp up their game with each new production. With hundreds of websites available to experience interactive porn via live streaming, producing top quality movies that customers wanted to own were getting harder. It wasn't that it was no longer feasible to do so as there was still a huge demand for the shit as there was plenty of money to be made, but there was a constant need to keep bringing in new talent and to stay on top of the latest trends in porn to make a production studio truly successful and Georgie was tired of doing all the work that was required. As far as he was concerned, producing porn flicks was a game for the young and he was too fucking old to do it anymore.

So when the opportunity presented itself to get in on the ground floor of cutting-edge technology—the revolutionary development of adult sex dolls, Georgie had jumped on it. The Asian market was the top leader in production of soft and hard core sex paraphemia and now that the Tanaka family had created dolls that were as close as possible to fucking an actual human, Georgie had sold his production studio to join the big leagues. Becoming the U.S. distributor of the Tanaka's "Dream Girl" line had the potential to earn Georgie millions of dollars in revenue.

Today's press announcement had been epic. With guests from all sides of the porn industry and lots of reporters, Georgie had made a huge splash as the attendees examined two of the series. With the advanced hype that his marketing team had put together, Georgie's new business was already in the black, his warehouse was full of dolls that had already been bought and paid for and were about to be shipped to a bunch of extremely satisfied owners.

With so many things going so well, it should have been a perfect day. Unfortunately, it had been something of a pain getting around, the fly in the fuckin' ointment being his missing in action bodyguard-slash-chauffeur. Georgie had been in Stockton for nearly two days and had blown up his phone, yelling and cursing at him for failing to show up at the airport and that same abuse had continued as the dickwad refused to answer his phone.

In disgust, Georgie had to make his own travel arrangements and had even driven himself to his own fucking press conference.

 _This was my fuckin' day_ , he groused, _and that asshole completely ruined it by being a no-show_.

Even now, as he pulled up to the gate that surrounded his warehouse, Georgie still had a grudge. If the ass had shown up for work, he could have tasked him to come to the warehouse to retrieve the unit that he intended to comp a gift, instead of having to get it himself. He really should wait until tomorrow and let the douchebag get it and then fire his ass, but he had promised that he would deliver the doll to Daryl Jameson before he departed for the east coast in the morning. Getting Jameson—a high profile distributor of sex toys on board and getting a personal testimony on the product—Georgie could probably bring him in as a secondary distributor and easily sell another 10,000 units, maybe even more.

So aglow with the idea of the millions he was going to make, Georgie stepped out of his car to unlock the gate. He had barely exited his vehicle when he was suddenly hit on the head from behind and everything went black.

* * *

 _What the fuck_? Georgie wondered dazedly. Swiping at the flow of blood that was pouring into his eye, Georgie winced at the pain he felt in his bruised and battered body.

Dizzy, disoriented and not knowing what had happened, Georgie's body ached as it bounced and slammed around in the dark and narrow confines of a very small compartment.

 _I'm in a trunk of a car_ , he managed to think. With his throat extremely dry, Georgie tried to swallow and failed. Wanting to scream at the top of his lungs, he was prevented from doing so as he had been thoroughly gagged with a ball plug.

It seemed as if the car had been on the road forever, when it hit a series of bumpy and unpaved roads before finally coming to a stop, accompanied by the sounds of another vehicle shutting down as well.

As he heard the sound of a car door opening and slamming closed, Georgie realized that he was finally going to meet his assailants and find out why he had been taken against his will.

As Georgie heard the locks of the trunk click, it slowly opened. Blinking furiously, Georgie could see that it was still night but instead of looking up and seeing the shining lights of Stockton, he saw stars twinkling in a midnight sky. The sounds of nocturnal animals and insects managed to make it to his ears and he realized that he was somewhere far outside of the city limits.

_Oh shit, this ain't good._

Suddenly, the bright ray of an extremely powerful flashlight was shone directly in his face. Rough hands reached over to yank at the rubber straps holding the ball gag in place. As Georgie was released from the restraint, he started to cough and gag as he gasped for air. As a bottle of water was shoved into his mouth, Georgie gulped at the lukewarm, but soothing water gratefully.

"That's enough." Georgie dimly heard and wanted to cry as the water was yanked away. In the darkness, he made out the shadowy figures of two men, one tall and lean, while the other was short and stout.

"What—what is this?" Georgie whispered.

"This is your opportunity to tell the truth Georgie," a somewhat familiar voice said coldly. "And what we hear will determine your fate."

"The truth? About what?" he croaked.

"Luann Delaney," the second voice said in a deep, foreboding tone.

_Oh shit._

"Luann who?" Georgie tried to play it off, but all he got for his trouble was a powerful fist in his gut. Doubled over in the trunk, Georgie retched and nearly threw up. "Please, don't. I'm sorry."

"So you remember Luann now," the first voice prodded.

"Yeah, yeah I do. She ran a porn studio."

"She _used_ to run one. She's dead now. Been dead over two years. We wanna know how she got that way."

"I don't know, I mean, maybe she just got into some bad shit."

At that, Georgie found himself being muscled about in the trunk. With the pressure of his body weight off of his hands, Georgie started to feel the tiny hot needles of his hands waking up. Then he screamed as he felt the pain of two of his fingers being snapped like they were bread sticks.

"I think you can do better than that, Georgie," the shorter man said over his screams. "My friend is good at this. He can do this all night, but something tells me that you can't."

"All right," Georgie blubbered. "I'll tell you the truth, I promise. Just please stop." As he was tossed onto his side again, Georgie took a couple of deep breaths.

"Luann was my rival in the business. She was a real bitch but she really knew how to shoot good product and she had an incredible roster of talent," Georgie wheezed. "I saw an opportunity to take over her girls and went for it, but the bitch wouldn't realize when shit was over and give the fuck up. I had to step shit up to the next level to prove I was serious. She had some bunch of biker dirt bags try to provide protection and they cause me a lot of problems. One day they went too far. In this business you can't look like a punk, so I retaliated." Georgie paused. "I ordered one of my guys to rough Luann up to send a message, but she fought back, and he took things too far. I didn't mean for her to get dead, but it's not my fault. It was one of my employees."

Georgie looked up at the short one. "Look, buddy, I'm not the guy you want. He was the one who killed her. I can tell you his name, where he lives and you can take shit up with him. The fucker wasn't that good at his job anyway, didn't even show up for work and he's supposed to be my protection too. Let's make a deal. I give him up, you let me go. Whaddya say?" Georgie whined.

"You talking about your boy, Jaye?" the tall one asked. "You're a little fucking late, man. "Who the fuck do you think gave up your ass so that we could find you?"

It was only then that Georgie realized that he was a dead shit. With his kidnappers confirming that Jaye sold him out, it was most likely that his employee was dead and he was next. Hoping to make a final plea for his life, Georgie moistened his dry lips. "Look, this shit, it happened a long fucking time ago. It's dead history, but there's no reason why I can't make some restitution. I got a lot of money. You let me live, I'll make it worth your while." Throwing out a six-figure sum, Georgie waited with fear and trembling, the silence of the night stretching out until it was almost deafening.

"You think you can buy your way out of this shit?" the short one rasped.

"Why not?" Georgie pleaded. "I'll double the offer."

"Because when you fuck with SAMCRO, any and all fuckers are going to eventually play the price, but it won't be money," the man said before shining the flashlight up so that Georgie could see his face.

"Bobby?! Bobby Elvis?!" Georgie said hoarsely as he took in the man's grim face, before lighting on the tall bald-headed man standing next to him. "Oh God, he's gonna kill me. You're gonna let him kill me."

"You're wrong on that shit," Bobby said as he pulled out his gun from the shoulder holster underneath his plain clothes. "I'm going to kill you," and looking into the man's terrified eyes, Bobby Munson fired.

The night echoed with the muffled sounds of the six rounds that riddled Georgie Caruso's body, with blood flying everywhere.

"Bro," Happy said irritably as he swiped away some of the blood from his cheek. "The least you could have done was let me close the fucking trunk first. His shit is everywhere."

"Sorry, brother," Bobby replied grimly. "But I wanted his ass to see his death coming." Slowly unscrewing his gun's silencer, Bobby reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief to wipe the blood spray from his face before handing it to Happy. "It's clean," as Happy looked at him with disbelief before snatching it and cleaning himself. "You up for the rest of it?"

Happy nodded grimly. "Yeah I got this. You know, Jax wanted me to be the one to—"

"Yeah, I know," Bobby sighed deeply. "But I needed to do this. Thanks for understanding brother."

"Well, I'd better bury this asshole before I change these plates and hit the road. It'll probably take me a little over an hour to make it to Oakland."

"Aadlen's will be waiting for you?"

Happy nodded. "It shouldn't take more than 10 minutes to crush this cage into a tin can. He's got a lot of cars he's doing tonight, but he's gonna squeeze us in," speaking of the owner of the auto wrecking company that SAMCRO had used on a number of occasions. "With him and his cage gone, it will be like Georgie disappeared into the fucking air."

"You're the master, Hap.

"Believe that."

* * *

_**Outside Lodi, CA—Sunday, May 14, 2011** _

The Jellybean Lounge sat right off of the I-22, just a few exits past Lodi on the way to Stockton. The seedy looking establishment sat next to a dubious rest stop for truckers and as such it received a steady stream of business.

Inside, it was nearly as bad looking as the outside and barely qualified as a bar, never mind a strip club. Decked out in tacky furnishings, the main stage had a number of old, borderline functional stripper poles. With a background curtain made up of gaudy silver streamers, the stripers would make their grand entrance and put on an apathetic show.

Had the owner had any business sense he would have realized that with a captive audience in the many truckers who made their break at the rest stop, he had a potential gold mine on his hands. Getting a better class of talent—more eye candy for the viewing audience—would translate into more money being spent at the bar and more dollars stuck in the ass cracks of said strippers, a cut of which went into the aging owner's pocket.

Bailey, however, felt that the real money was in the ability of his strippers to give blow jobs. He had a few gals on hand that could suck start a leaf blower. Now that was money he could take to the bank!

Between the lap dances, blow jobs and other sex acts that he got his girls to do, Bailey was running a thriving mini-brothel—one stop shopping, his girls did it all and to a hip hop, heavy metal or hot techno beat.

And far as two patches of the Sons of Anarchy Redwood Original were concerned, the Jellybean Lounge was the place to be.

Sitting at their favorite round booth against the wall, Tig and Happy were kicked back drinking a couple of shots of whiskey. For the first time ever, Tig had finally managed to get Kozik to join him and Happy for a night away from the Clubhouse and the spiky headed blond was currently bitching.

"I can't believe you brought me to this shithole," Kozik complained. "Hey, I'm all for going out, but hanging on the lot would have been a way better party than this shit. At least the pussy there isn't completely worn out," Kozik continued as he eyed the emaciated woman who listlessly swung around a pole, barely making eye contact with the audience. As the music's volume and beat reached to a fever pitch, she attempted to do a spinning straddle. "Shit, I think she's gonna fall."

"Listen man, I told you," Tig said as he eyed the dancer and sniggered as she landed on her ass to a chorus of boos. "We don't come here for pretty strippers. We came here to get really, _really_ , good head."

Obviously Tig's voice had carried as a worn woman, beach bottle blonde and a redhead followed behind her as she approached the table. "Well, looks who's back. Did you miss me?"

"I missed that Hoover you call a mouth, doll," Tig said cheerfully, pulling out a $20 bill with one hand while he unzipped his fly with the other. "Let's get this party started. Koz you take the redhead and doll, call over a brunette for my friend here," nodding at Happy, "before you get started."

 _Damn_ , Kozik thought as the redhead shoved the table aside, got on her knees and made quick work of yanking his dick out of his jeans. Feeling the woman's lips latch onto and engulf his entire dick, Kozik suddenly gripped the sides of the banquette for dear life as his eyes rolled back in his head.

_Shit! Tiggy wasn't kidding._

* * *

Sitting back as the brunette went to work on him, Happy wondered what the fuck he was doing there.

_You're here asshole because Tiny is in fuckin' Reno._

Gripping the woman's head as he guided her, Happy closed his eyes and tried to get the image of Tiny out of his fuckin' head.

The Jellybean Lounge had been a long time favorite for him and his brother Tig, but as he sat in the booth, his eyes wandering over the tacky decor as a tired old stripper with somewhat of a horse face worked on his finally hardening cock, Happy realized that being with Tiny had fuckin' spoiled slumming for him.

_And I don't like that shit._

His brothers, on the other hand, were enjoying themselves immensely. Hearing a couple of loud grunts and cries of release, Happy managed to focus on the task at hand as the bitch on her knees finally made him cum, shooting his load down her throat. Handing her two 20's, Happy watched her and her companions get up to go service some of the lounge's other patrons.

"Okay, is it just me or did you not enjoy that shit at all?" Tig asked as he eyed his brother. "And what's worse, you paid her double, which is not like you, ya cheap bastard, so what's going on?"

Kozik, who was still coming down from his orgasm said, "Why you busting Hap's chops for?"

" 'Cause lately my brother has been off the fucking range and I wanna know why," Tig retorted."

"Stop being a wise ass," Happy bristled. "Shit's fine with me."

"Nah, bro. Lately you've been MIA. Whenever we wanna hang out, shoot some pool, get piss-faced, it seems you're never around unless it's on Club business."

"Tiggy is kind of on point there," Kozik said as he zipped up his fly. "Not to mention that there are at least half a dozen croweaters moping around 'cause they miss your dick."

"Not that I have a problem with that," Tig said hastily. "More pussy for me…but that still doesn't explain why we haven't seen you around and the only reason I can figure is that you're busy tapping Nico's fine ass 24/7. So am I right?"

Happy focused narrowed eyes on the crazy haired biker. "Who I fuck is no business of yours, bro."

"So I _am_ right," Tig crowed as he reached for the bottle of Jack he had purchased from the bar and refilled their shot glasses. "I told you Kozy. I knew Hap had closed escrow on that fine piece of tail."

"Shut up, asshole," Happy retorted.

"What? It's not like it's a fuckin' secret," the crazy haired biker said. " _Everybody_ knows that shit."

"What the fuck you talking 'bout?"

"Tig's right, Hap," Koz said with a shrug. "Don't kill the messenger, but it wasn't exactly hard to figure out. You're never around and although I've seen you come out of your dorm in the mornings, word is you don't get in before 4 or 5 in the morning. And lately, it's almost become like a badge of honor among the croweaters to be one of the few that actually gets the chance to ride your dick."

"Look man, I ain't trying to be all up in your business," Tig shot in. "It's just that if youse two are getting serious—"

"Serious?!" Happy nearly yelped. "Motherfucker—"

"Okay, maybe I'm making a big assumption here, but I'm just trying to look out for your ass is all. I mean, you don't want _Bella mafia_ getting too attached to ya since she's only going to be around a few months—"

"I'm not getting serious and neither is Tiny," Happy muttered. "I ain't never been serious about a bitch before in my life."

 _Except Marlowe_ , Kozik thought but didn't say out loud. _After all, I like breathing. Tigger's the one who likes to live dangerously. Fucker's got a death wish right now._

"So you say," Tig said sagely, "but shit like that can change on a fuckin' dime is all I'm saying and you've been spending a lot of time over at her place from what I can see." Tig grinned. "Don't be mad 'cause I notice shit. If I'm wrong, if I'm stepping out of line, my bad Hap."

"Well you are. I ain't got nothing serious going on with Tiny," Happy said adamantly.

"All righty then," Tig stood up and stretched his arms over his head. "I think I'm going to go get me a lap dance next." Intent on heading towards the back of the lounge towards the private rooms, he turned back to eye his brother with a snarky grin. "If you're not exclusive with Nico, then I guess that means she's available to the first brother to press up on her fine ass. Lucky me."

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Monday, May 16, 2011** _

"You know you are a twisted son of a bitch," Kozik's voice was muffled as he was currently buried under the hood of an aging Honda Civic, but his brother still managed to hear him.

"Yeah, so the fuck what? How long have you known me?" Tig asked from his seat on a low bench next to the car. "Much ain't changed since Okinawa."

"I don't know, man. It just amazes me how much you seem to enjoy courting a death wish," Kozik said as he finally emerged from the car's engine to look at it dismally. "This piece of shit is done. The owner needs to stop being a cheap bastard and get himself a new ride."

Turning his focus back on his brother, Kozik pointed an index finger to emphasize his point. "I'm talking about you jerking Hap around at the Jellybean the other night threatening to tap Nico's ass."

"Yeah," Tig sniggered as he pulled out a pack a smokes and lit one. "That was kind of sick of me wasn't it?"

"I'm glad you find it funny, bro. You won't be laughing for long when you're picking your teeth out of your colon."

"You gotta to admit it was some easy shit messing around with his cranky ass. He must really miss Nico."

Kozik looked at his brother with a sly grin. "Okay, okay, that shit _was_ funny." The two men cackled companionably before Kozik continued. "But it was still dangerous man. I mean basically putting it to Hap that Nico's ass was open to any of our brothers." Kozik folded his arms over his chest. "You know full well that nobody in this charter is ever going to try that shit. She's only been around a couple of months but Nico's a cool lady and a real asset to the Club. Besides, Jax would prolly gut anybody who tried to treat her like a pass-around just on principle since he loves the ladies."

"Yeah, but the way Hap was acting, it looks like he don't know that."

"So what is it you're trying to prove with this shit, then?" Kozik queried. "I mean I know you're a crazy bastard, but doing this just for shits and giggles might not be worth it if you end up in a shallow grave in Chigger Woods. So what are you trying to accomplish with yanking Hap's chain?"

Tig sighed as he ran his heavily ringed fingers through his mop of curls. "Well, I have to admit that messing with Hap was definitely the priority, although I am starting to wonder if he _is_ interested in Nico a little more than he's let on and his reaction after I basically declared open season on her ass was a big indicator that I'm right…and I'm not sure I like it."

"What's your beef?"

"My beef is that Hap is my hanging buddy in all things psychotic and depraved, that's what," Tig practically whined. "He's basically abandoned me already."

"How you figure that?"

Tig rolled his eyes. "The Jellybean man."

"Are you high? He was right there with us, asshole."

"No man, he wasn't. His body was there but I'm telling ya, the guy was totally checked out mentally, and it's because of Nico. I'm sure he only hung out with us because she's back in Reno. "

 _Well, Tigger may have a point there_ , Kozik fought to keep the grin off his face.

It had become readily apparent to him from Nico's first day in Charming that Happy was into her and as the weeks continued, Kozik was certain that Happy was getting more into the tiny counselor than he probably realized. Tig was right: their brother _was_ spending a lot of time in Nico's sphere, ostensibly to see to her protection while she was in NorCal, but Kozik himself had noticed that Happy was MIA for many a night from his dorm ever since the diva had pulled into town. With Nico been gone now for over a week, this had probably the most that he had seen of Hap in recent weeks.

"Look man, it's not like its official, like they're a couple or anything. You heard what he said—there's nothing going down between them, except for some fucking—which by the way, he didn't _really_ confirm or deny, but if he _is_ hitting her shit, is it really that big of a deal?"

"Yes, it is, because this is how shit starts. One day he's just hitting her shit, next thing you know he's shacked up with her, and if he does whose gonna hang with me at the Jellybean?"

"Me, asshole," Kozik retorted throwing down an oily rag before sitting on the bench next to his brother. "The women may be fugly, but damn, they could give our girls lessons at giving head. Besides, the way you were ragging on him, I seriously thought you were going to try for Nico yourself."

"Shit, I was only playing with Hap. I was trying to use that reverse psychology shit on him to get him to come clean that he wasn't really into her."

"All you did was piss him off…and probably put the idea in his head about putting Nico under lock and key." Kozik pointed out. "Anyway, do you really think Nico is the kind of woman who would want to shack up with Hap?"

"If he's laying that pipe right, yeah, I think so. Every bitch loves a bad boy and let's face it, after me, Happy is the pick of the litter in that department."

Kozik shrugged his shoulders. "That's doubtful bro. Well, whatever happens I can guarantee that the Prez won't let the sitch get out of hand. He's too invested in having Nico around to fix our issues with Unser's and the porn studio."

And with that statement, it diverted Tig from the dick games of his brother and onto Club business.

"Now that you've mentioned that shit, I think Jax is up to something," Tig said, stroking his goatee. "Something big, too."

Kozik cocked a head. "You think so?"

"Yeah, I do. It seems to me that he, Ope and Hap have been spending a lot of time behind closed doors lately whenever Clay isn't around, but we ain't heard shit about what they're talking about at the table. Whatever it is he's cooking up, Jax is playing it pretty close to his kutte." Tig nodded wisely. "I may not be the sharpest pencil in the fucking box, but even I can see that Jax is looking to make some sort of move with the Club."

"Well, if he is, I gotta believe he's trying to do what's best for his brothers, man. Not to trash talk, but he's ain't like Clay."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Tig said a little belligerently.

"Now I know you're tight with Clay, so don't' get your boxers in a twist, Tiggy."

"I can't," Tig deadpanned. "I ain't wearing any."

"TMI, brother. Damn." Kozik rolled his eyes but was intent on making his point. "Look, don't get me wrong. Overall, Clay was a good prez for many years, but from what I've seen and heard from your own mouth about shit that went down before I patched back in, he was slipping at the end of his reign. Making executive decisions and not looking before he leapt and the Charter suffered some setbacks because of it. Can we agree on that shit?"

Although it was obvious that Tig was irritated at his brother's conclusions, the barely imperceptible shrug of agreement was all that Kozik needed to continue his line of reasoning. "Jax, on the other hand, tends to think shit out a lot. He really believes in his old man's mantra 'brains before bullets.' What I'm saying is that as a Club we are more likely to avoid stepping in some shit with him at the helm, which is a good thing. So if he has some plans for the Club, I gotta believe he's got our best interest at heart."

"You might be right on that shit. I mean, I've always appreciated Jax's lead on a lot of stuff, he's a smart patch. I didn't always trust that he could get bloody and handle shit, but I've been proven wrong. He's a tough son of a bitch but I don't think Clay is too happy about where he's leading the Club," Tig paused, "and that could be a problem down the road."

Kozik shrugged his shoulders before picking up his rag again. "That may be, but Clay ain't at the head of the table no more. Besides, all Jax seems to want to do is to find additional, easier ways for us to earn. I mean, we've all made a hell of a lot of a bank with this Cartel deal right? I don't know about you, but I'm set for life, even after paying Eddie to launder my money for me. I was even thinking about asking Nico for some advice as to what to do with my new found wealth, and it makes sense to do so while this money is still coming in. I mean, the Club has never had a deal like this before and we've been raking it in, but this sweet sitch is gonna dry up sooner or later. I'm thinking that maybe this should be the Club's last big score."

"You mean," Tig said disbelievingly, "getting out of guns _permanently_?"

"Why not?" Kozik folded his arms over his chest. "I mean, how likely are we gonna be able to get another deal as good as this one with the Cartel? And let's face it, I got a hell of a lot more than just money out of this deal." Kozik tapped his right leg that had suffered massive damage in the Galindo/Lobos Sonora War. "This here was a pretty close call for me and if Marlowe hadn't stepped in, I might be sporting a stump right now. I could have kicked the bucket if I hadn't survived the infection. After all of this shit with the Cartel is over, wouldn't it make sense to go out large then to go back to selling guns to just the crews in NorCal?"

Tig was willing to play devil's advocate. "Okay, let's say that getting out now makes sense. You're forgetting one big thing, brother—the fucking Irish," Tig eyed his brother with a frown. "Somehow, I don't think that Galen prick would be too happy at losing the NorCal pipeline."

"Maybe, but what the fuck can he _do_ about it if the Club decides that we don't want to run guns anymore? I mean, not that I'm scared of shit, but I ain't getting any younger, and neither is your old ass. Fact is, I'd like to finally introduce Doc to my brother Lew and his family, maybe get me some grandbabies to bounce on my knee down the road."

"What the fuck?" Tig sputtered. "Have you gone mental?"

"No douchebag. I'm talking about Marlowe and Jax, damn it. I gotta believe that one day Jax is gonna knock Marlowe's ass up and me and Happy will have a grandkid to train up."

"Man, you are seriously depressing me over here."

"I'm not depressed at all. I think I would rather have all of our brothers safe and living the good life off of our porn and trucking business than ending up as a bunch of three-time losers serving 25 to life—or do you really want to go back to Stockton to permanently reside in a sausage factory with Juicy as your cell bitch?"

"Well when you put it like that…," Tig muttered.

"Look, all this shit we're talking about—it's just speculation at this point. But you are right about one thing. Jax intends to make a major shift in how the Club operates, so before it happens I think we better think long and hard."

"About what?"

"About whether we're going to support him," Kozik said slowly "or fight him…with Clay."

* * *

**Glossary** **:**

Mangia: eat

Chola: a female gangster or badass


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

**A/N : Just a quick shout out of thanks for the comments I received from Amanda, fivefivegenie, hannahch on the last couple of chapters. Your comments are so appreciated and really encourage me when I hear what you enjoyed about the chapter, so please keep p it up!**

 

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Wednesday, May 17, 2011** _

Pulling onto the lot, Nico couldn't believe how much she had missed being in Charming.

Being pulled away from her happily self-imposed exile to deal with a Syndicate crisis was the last thing Nico had wanted, but there had been no help for it.

The situation—involving the Syndicate's largest casino in Reno—had involved the discovery of a ring of dishonest dealers under the control of a newly promoted Pit Boss and several floor men. The resulting scandal could have proved extremely detrimental for the Casino and for the Syndicate, both in money and in reputation.

Surprisingly, Dom had supported several of the under bosses who wanted to make an example of the idiots that tried to steal from the Syndicate. Realizing the problems inherent with that plan, Jimmy Cacuzza had reached out to Nico for help in coming up with a compromise. Nico had used all of her wits to persuade her brother and the under bosses to report the plot to the Nevada Gaming Commission.

Resolving the issue had taken a lot longer than Nico had planned, requiring her to stay in Reno for over a week before the situation was brought to a satisfactory conclusion. Providing the evidence and working with the Gaming Commission and Reno Police created a positive public relations opportunity for the Syndicate. Had the under bosses followed through with their original plans of death, destruction and all out mayhem, that retaliation could have blown back on the Syndicate. The likeliest scenario would have had the Feds up their asses—a situation that would be far more problematic than simply handling over a bunch of greedy and truly inept employees to the proper authorities.

Although the situation had taken a great deal of her time, it had also provided an opportunity to visit with her father and his counsel regarding the progress that they were making on his request for compassionate early release. Although there was a backlog of applications being heard by the Medical Division of the Department of Corrections, her father's counsel had used a number of contacts to get Gianni Torelli's case reviewed. Her father's outlook looked hopeful as there was a possibility that he could be released within six months.

The only downside to Nico's visit was that Rosanna Torelli had been alerted to her presence in Reno and the matriarch had issued a command through her brother Jimmy for Nico to show up at the Torelli Estate. It was not, however, just a motherly longing to see her daughter but in fact a full scale intervention that included her two older sisters. It was the longest interrogation of her life as the three women pressured her to return home for good. The only way she had been able to get away was to reassure her mother that she would be back in several weeks' time when Tonio would arrive home from boarding school for the summer.

Tonio coming home would be the only highlight to the enforced visit, but at least he would be a buffer between her and her mother. She truly missed him though and was looking forward to spending some time with him. Although Nico had made do with their weekly phone conversations, they were just a poor substitute to seeing her baby in the flesh. However, it was a sacrifice that Nico was willing to make in order to give her son time and space to make his own choice regarding his future.

Pushing thoughts of her mother and her son aside, Nico stepped out of her car and locked it with a frown as she noted that the lot was filled with hang-arounds and patches—a great deal many more than were associated with the mother charter.

 _Maybe I should have sent Jax a text that I was back in town_ , Nico thought as she noted the leers on the faces of several men as she quickly made her way through to the Clubhouse.

Having to leave Charming the same morning that Happy had slept over had been extremely disappointing. Their breakfast together had been the first time in a long while that the two of them had spent time talking rather than just fucking. Nico had been truly surprised—not just as to what she had shared with Happy about her life as a daughter of a Don—but her shock at the outlaw who actually shared something personal about his life, other than the size of his dick.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least and although Nico had been initially upset that she had been called away to tend to family business, the time away had given her a breather. Determined to keep shit on a more straightforward level and not so damn intimate, Nico figured it was better that she drop by the Clubhouse to let _Jax_ know that she was back in town. It would be just a little too soon to text Happy and have him show up at her place the minute she got back in town.

_Besides, I have a feeling that shit got a little real for Happy too. Better to avoid any serious drama. No need to have him think that things are more serious between them than just hooking up._

However, neither Happy nor Nico had reckoned with the game changer that was Tig Trager.

* * *

With his back propped up against the bar, Tig Trager's smirk was almost maniacal as he spotted Nico walking towards him. It had been a few days since his conversation with Kozik about the relationship between Happy and the lawyer from Reno and after his discussion with Kozy, an idea had entered his demented brain and had perked his interest to have a little bit of fun.

As a former Marine, Tig loved courting death and drama. It was probably one of the main reasons after closing the door on his military career that he had chosen to prospect with and become a patched member of the Sons of Anarchy. As much as Tig loved fucking and killing shit, he had a huge sense of humor that was not always appreciated by his brothers. It had often seen him on the receiving end of a fist, which—as far as he was concerned—was a reasonable retribution for throwing shit at the his brothers' fragile egos. His twisted sense of humor played a huge factor in how he interacted with the men he had sworn to protect with his life.

There was nothing quite as entertaining to Tig—other than fucking who and whatever was available at any given moment—than messing with his brothers, and now that the Italian diva had sashayed her ass back into the Clubhouse, it was time to put his plan into action, especially while Happy was in the Chapel with the Prez.

 _It's too damn bad that the Doc ain't around_ , Tig thought. _I guess I'll have to give her a blow by blow_ afterwards _, maybe over a free hot meal_.

The Clubhouse was packed that evening, with some visiting brothers from the Rogue River and Tacoma charters and already he could see that his brothers were well aware that the scent of new pussy—albeit dressed in a sleek business pantsuit—was in their midst. Not wanting any of the visiting brothers to end up dead in a ditch somewhere courtesy of SAMCRO's SAA, Tig made quick work to intercept the dark haired beauty.

Snagging V-Lin by the collar of his prospect kutte and ordering him to hand him a shot of Jack in a fucking hurry or he'd rape his ass, Tig strolled forward and wrapped a beefy arm around her shoulders. "Hey doll," Tig said as he winked cheekily. "Look whose finally returned back to SAMCRO. Wanna wet your whistle?" he asked, offering the glass.

"Hello Tig," Nico replied with a wry grin. "Don't mind if I do," as she took the proffered drink and took a sip and delicately shrugged her shoulders to release herself from the biker's grip. "So did you miss me?"

"Did I ever, doll face," he replied roguishly. "We were starting to think that you had abandoned us for the bright city lights of Reno."

"No such luck, outlaw," Nico said and Tig watched as her deep blue eyes wandered around the room, obviously looking for his brother and being disappointed if the twist of her lips into a downward frown was anything to go by. "There are a lot of new faces here tonight."

"Yeah, some of our brothers did an autism run and decided to stop by before heading back home." Tig raised an eyebrow. "Hey, are you hungry?"

Nico ran a hand through her hair. "To tell you the truth I could probably eat a horse, which is not good considering that I'm pretty sure I don't having anything ready to fix in my fridge at home."

"No worries, doll," Tig sniffed the air. "Smell that shit? Bobby made a huge pot of chili. Come on and let me get you something. I gotta warn ya, though. It's hot as hell."

"Hey, I love spicy food," Nico said a little distracted as she again searched the perimeter of the Clubhouse.

"I guess you looking for Hap, huh?"

"Uh, well, I actually stopped by to let Jax know I returned," Nico said, but as Tig eyed her, he could see the lie in her eyes.

"Well, he's in the Chapel with Hap I think," he said casually and watched her eyes light up.

 _Oh, yeah, she is totally down for Hap's man meat_ , he thought with a barely discernable snicker.

"Oh good," Nico replied. "I guess I can grab something to eat while I wait."

"Sure thing," Tig said with a grin. "Yo, kewpie doll," he yelled at a passing red haired croweater. "Grab a big bowl of Bobby's chili here for the counselor, and bring it to the table, pronto."

"Sure thing Tig," the girl replied affably as she turned and headed towards the kitchen.

Tig made quick work escorting Nico to one of the tables right outside the chapel doors.

_Hap will have a great big fucking surprise when he opens the fuckin' door._

* * *

_12 fucking days!_

The SAMCRO SAA was in a stew. It had been 12 damn days since Tiny had blown out of town and he was starting to wonder if she was ever coming back.

With having his own duties to attend to for the Cub—namely the demise of one Georgie Caruso—Happy was unable to accompany Nico back to Reno. Technically speaking there really was no need to do so. After all, Nico was going back to her home turf to deal with a Syndicate matter. It was unlikely that she would come to any harm while in her normal environment, and Happy would have stuck out like a sore thumb—an outlaw biker in the midst of a bunch of made men.

Jax had, however, offered his services to Nico but she had turned Happy down stating that she would be quite safe on her own.

 _But that was 12 days ago_ , Happy thought grumpily, trying to pay attention as his Prez spoke with the Tacoma and Rogue River officers regarding the activity of several of the gangs and crews in their respective territories.

With the exception of a couple of random texts— _made_ _to Jax_ —Tiny had advised that her return would be delayed. Except for one lone text Tiny had sent him to let him know she had arrived safely in Reno, he hadn't heard shit from her in all that time.

Having that kind of time on his fucking hands was not good at all. If there was one thing Happy Lowman wasn't, it wasn't some needy bitch to be longing after a woman.

While his Prez and VP made a couple of suggestions to their brothers on how to handle their issues, Happy straightened his shoulders as he finally resolved what he was gonna do.

_Fucking Tiny has its perks, but she's pulling me away from my focus—my responsibilities to the Club and my brothers. Hitting her shit has been fun, but it's time to cut her loose. There are plenty of bitches in this Clubhouse that can see to my needs. When she gets back, I'll lay down the law that shit is over between us. I'll provide her with security, but as to anything else, it's a fucking wrap._

_For good._

* * *

_Tigger can be a charming motherfucker when he wants to be. I'll give him that much_.

Practically scrapping her second bowl clean of its contents, Nico pushed it away as she continued to chuckle as her companion spun a tale of humor and action. It seemed that the crazy haired biker had appointed himself as her personal entertainer for the evening. As long as she had been in Charming, Nico had made it a point not to be around when the Club was partying on the lot, but her interest in seeing Happy again had outweighed her common sense. Not only did she stick around and have a meal, but she spent an enjoyable a half hour with Tig as he spent his time juggling between flirting outrageously and sharing very humorous stories of his adventures as a Son of Anarchy while the rest of the Club partied hearty.

Leaning back in her chair, Nico sputtered with laughter. "So they just up and snatched your ass? Right in front of Bobby?"

"Believe it doll. One minute I was making all sorts of twisted plans for my new personal bitch and the next minute my ass was being tossed into a van."

"You know," Nico drawled, "generally speaking it's been my experience that people don't arbitrarily throw other people in the back of vans without a fucking reason. So why were you picked up?"

"I had an outstanding warrant and I bailed on a $40K bond. Those fuckers were going to haul my ass off to Oregon if my brothers hadn't come to my rescue."

"Okay, so I have to ask." Nico grinned as she propped her chin in her hand. "What did you _do_ in Oregon?"

"It was just a minor misunderstanding in a horse stall, is all," Tig replied wryly and shrugged his shoulders as Nico stared at him blankly. "What? It wasn't like I killed anybody."

Nico blinked a couple of times. "I'm suddenly getting the vibe that I probably shouldn't delve any deeper."

"I think you should listen to that shit," Tig agreed. "Considering everything that went down, that run to Eureka was pretty damn good. Fortunately for me, I was prevented from being an unwilling guest of the State of Oregon. Piney had to come with a flatbed to transport me and Bobby's bikes back to Charming and they staged a rescue op with it to bust into the motel room where those assholes were patching me up. Happy was right on the spot too. He helped me up on the flat bed, drew his gun on one of the fuckers' forehead. He's a good brother. Sometimes a little shortsighted, maybe even stupid, but still a really good brother to have at your side in a fight," Tig said nonchalantly.

"Shortsighted? Stupid?" Nico said with surprise and Tig noted gleefully, a little anger. "What are you talking about? He's probably the smartest man I know."

"Now, now. Don't get me wrong, Nico. Hap and me go way back, but let's face it. He's a real hot head and a cheap bastard too, especially when you consider all the money his tight ass has, it's pretty sad. To tell you the truth," Tig leaned in to share his confidence, "I always thought that out of me and Koz, he was the smartest of us, but his letting your ass run around here loose and free—clearly shows he's getting senile as he gets older. But that's okay as that shit works out in my favor." Tig watched as a hard glint reached her eyes.

"First, Hap doesn't 'let me run loose'—I'm my own fucking woman."

"That's good to know."

"Second," Nico continued as if he hadn't spoken, "what does my ass being 'free' have to do with _you_?"

"Funny you should ask," he replied, his eyes crinkling gleefully as he saw the Chapel doors open and his brothers' starting to exit.

_Perfect timing!_

With Nico facing sideways to the doors, in her irritation she was completely unaware that they were about to have company.

Draping his arm around her shoulders, Tig leaned in even closer, enough that his lips were nearly touching her ear, which certainly gave the appearance of two people who were completely intimate and fixated on one another .

"Look doll, there's no need to be shy. I mean, I've made it pretty plain that I wouldn't mind doing the naked pretzel with ya dozens of times and since my brother ain't seen fit to keep you all to himself, I figured I'd be a fool if I didn't push up on ya before the rest of my brothers got in line."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tig saw Happy standing frozen in the Chapel's doorway, with Jax by his side.

Raising his voice so it would be heard, Tig flashed Nico a rakish grin. "So whaddya say, doll? You gonna let me hit your shit or what? Now if you shoot me down again you're going to hurt my feelings. But since I owe my brother a favor, at least let me introduce you to a patch from Rogue River," he improvised, lying through his teeth. "The brothers up there don't see a lot of good trim. You'd really make his night."

The next thing Tig knew, his mouth was full of a hard brown fist, the impact of which sent him sprawling out of his chair and onto the floor.

"Hap, are you out of your fucking mind?" Nico screeched. Having barely managed to leap out of the way as the table went flying, she dropped down next to Tig who was trying to prop himself up, blood streaming down his chin from an awesomely split lip. Floating between anger at both Happy and Tig, her concern for Tig won out for a brief moment despite his recent asshole proposition. "Are you okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Oh, that was just a love tap. I'm fine doll—" Tig started before he was lifted onto his feet and another fist was plowed into his eye. Tig's head snapped back from the impact, only for it to happen again with another blow to the head and another shot to the face—this time his nose being the casualty of Happy's left jab.

Hearing the cartilage in his nose make an ominous crunching sound, Tig knew that his nose had been broken for the third time in his life. He was truly shocked at the speed and viciousness of his brother as Happy hardly gave him a chance to defend himself, never mind mount an attack.

It was the next blow, a punishing left/right combo into his ribs that had the air whooshing out of his lungs, that had Tig sinking to his knees. "Shit, Hap. I think you cracked my ribs," he said hoarsely.

With the sudden commotion, all of the activities through the Clubhouse had ceased as patches, hang-arounds, croweaters and porn stars alike watched as the Club's current SAA went to town on the former SAA's ass.

Jumping to her feet, Nico barely managed to grab Happy's upraised right arm that was cocked back to administer another crushing blow and yelled at Happy to the astonishment of all the onlookers. "Stop this shit, Hap. Have you lost your mind?"

"Tiny, you better let go of my shit right the fuck now," Happy growled as he looked down at her, his black eyes glowing with anger.

Nico's intervention had been enough however for several SAMCRO brothers to step in. While Chibs made quick work of wresting Tig out of Happy's grasp, Opie got in between both men, blocking Happy's access to their brother.

Although shorter than the Club's VP by a couple of inches, Happy radiated anger and his frame bristled with blood lust. "Ope, you need to get the fuck outta my way."

The Club's gentle giant slowly shook his head. "Not gonna happen brother. You wanna settle some shit, need a healing, fine, but do it in the ring, not in here."

"There ain't shit _to_ settle," Nico retorted from behind Opie. "Hap is acting like some over-possessive asshole is all." Shoving Opie aside despite her small frame, Nico stretched herself as much as her height would allow to get into Happy's face.

"Look here Killer. The last time I checked I was a fucking free moral agent. Why are you all up in my shit?!"

"Damn, that woman must have a death wish to tangle with Hap," one visiting brother muttered to Bobby Elvis, "but that's okay, especially if he's done with her. I like 'em feisty."

The Club's occupants watched as Happy towered over the woman, his gravelly voice as hard as granite. "Tiny, your ass has been MIA for 12 fuckin' days and the first time I see you, you're all up in this mutherfucka's face?"

"And what of it?" Nico retorted. "I've been hanging out with _your_ ass. Maybe I have a thing for crazy motherfuckers!"

"See, doll," Tig called out as Chibs tried in vain to shut him up, shoving him into a chair. "I _knew_ you liked my ass," he crowed.

"Shut up!" Happy and Nico hollered in unison neither of them looking at him.

"Brutha, if I were you, I'd leave that shite alone," Chibs murmured.

Having been summarily shoved aside, Opie turned to his best friend, who was casually propped against the Chapel door smoking a cigarette. "Bro, shouldn't you stop this shit?" He watched as Jax shook his head.

"Nah, I've been waiting for this shit to go down. It's about fucking time," Jax grinned "Let 'em at it."

As the growing argument escalated in its fierceness and volume, Jax figured that any moment shit was finally going to get real and he was correct.

"Listen you big ape! My pussy is _my_ pussy. It doesn't belong to _you_ ," Nico said angrily. As soon as her declaration echoed in the silence throughout the Clubhouse, Nico realized she had made a huge mistake. She had, in effect, tossed down the gauntlet. Gazing briefly around the room, Nico could see that everyone, but the patches in particular, was waiting to see how the mother charter's SAA would handle some woman talking shit to him in his own clubhouse.

And Happy Lowman did not disappoint.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Happy lifted her up to eye level as her feet—shod in black Jimmy Choo heels—dangled helplessly above the hardwood floor. "As long as your ass is in Charming, your shit belongs to _me_." Dropping Tiny back onto the floor, Happy glared as he looked around the room. "And any motherfucker in here who thinks otherwise, is going to get a taste of my Glock right up their ass," Happy paused. "Any questions?" he barked as he looked directly at Tig.

Putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, Tig replied with an evil bloody grin, his right eye already swollen shut, which was good as it was now protected from the blood oozing from the gash above his eye. "Nah bro. I kinda figured that would be your take on shit."

As a look of disbelief dawned in Happy's eyes, Tig grinned even wider. "I think this shit here calls for a celebration. Drinks on me!" As the crowd roared its approval and started to crowd the bar, Tig cocked his head towards his brother and pointed at Nico's retreating figure. "I think you better go catch _your girl_ , Hap. She's making a run for it."

* * *

Nico Torelli was not a woman who liked looking like a fool.

Trying to find a balance between feelings of rage at her embarrassment in front of the entire Club and euphoria that Happy had declared that _she_ belonged to _him_ , Nico's embarrassment won out as red cheeked, she desperately tried to make a run for the exit and failed miserably as she suddenly found herself airborne to land cross body over Happy's shoulder.

"Put me down," she yelled at a nonresponsive Happy. "Right now!"

"Girl, you ain't got the message yet?" a voice called out from the crowd and peering between the curtain of her dark hair from her upended perch, Nico spotted a young blond porn star. "Damn. Lucky bitch don't even know when she's got it good. How she managed to catch Happy's eye in that spinster suit is beyond me."

As laughter reverberated throughout the room, Nico swallowed back her litany of Italian curses and clenched her fists to stop herself from pounding all over Happy's back as he marched throughout the crowd, apparently enjoying the catcalls and well wishes of his brothers as he headed towards the dorm rooms.

_I've already made myself enough of a spectacle. I can wait until we get alone before I tear Hap a new asshole for this caveman shit!_

Breathing hard and deep, Nico assumed a mantle of calmness as she waited for Happy to dig out his keys that were attached to a long link chain on his belt to open the door to his room.

The door flew open and stalking inside, Happy kicked the door shut and dumped her ass in the middle of the bed. Barely noting the furnishings in the relatively neat room, Nico bounced up off the bed and turned to face him and opened her mouth.

"Save it, Tiny. There ain't gonna be a discussion on this shit. I. Have. Spoken," Happy said as he reached over to take hold of her shoulders.

The last thing Happy had expected to happen was him declaring to the entire Club that Nico was now under his protection. He had only moments before decided to call things to a halt between them. However, coming out of the Chapel and finding Tiny's ass practically in his brother's lap had been completely unexpected and before he realized what he had done, he had nearly beat the shit out of his brother before declaring to the whole fucking Clubhouse that Tiny belonged to him.

Even now he tried to rationalize what had happened. Technically speaking Happy had not asked Tiny to be his old lady. After all, he wasn't fucking certifiable. He had merely stipulated that while she was in Charming, he owned her shit. That was all and that was how he was going to play this shit until Tiny packed up and returned to Reno. Keeping her under his protection in this way was simply another way of providing security for her ass and protecting the Club from any blowback with the Syndicate if another brother tried to press up on her and created a bad situation. All he had to do now was get Tiny on board with that plan.

"You have spoken?!" Nico spat. "You must have lost your mind while I was gone."

"I'm not the one who is insane, Tiny," he shot back. "You are if you think I don't run shit in my own fuckin' Clubhouse."

"Look Hap—" Nico started angrily, but was cut off.

"No you look. Your ass was out there practically in my brother's lap—"

"I was not. I was only talking—"

"—and by doing so," Happy continued, "you practically opened yourself up to being hit on by every patch in the damn place. I got eyes in my fucking head, Tiny and I know you do too. You gonna tell me you didn't know that every fuckin' eye was scoping you out in the Clubhouse?"

"That's beside the point," Nico argued.

"No, that's my point exactly. If you're gonna be here in Charming and fucking me, you can best believe that that shit is gonna get around and there are plenty of brothers who visit SAMCRO who won't have a problem pushing up on you. You don't have a crow and you ain't my old lady, and that makes you fair game. It's my job to see to your security while you are working for the Club, so that means I gotta do whatever I see fit to keep you from causing trouble while you're in Charming—"

"Trouble?!"

"That's right," Happy said as he towered over her. "Your clothes might scream uptight bougie bitch, but that ass of yours says something entirely different and there are plenty of patches who won't have a problem trying some shit with you. But with me letting it be known that you belong to me, that will squash that shit. Ain't no sane patch alive who's gonna come here and try to take what's mine without bleeding out first."

Happy grabbed her by the shoulders and plastered her against him as he stared down into her deep blue eyes. "So from now on, you're ass belongs to me. This shit is not up for discussion," he warned as he watched a battle light come into her eyes. "Either you agree to this sitch, or you might as well go back to your house and pack up your shit and leave town." Happy used the tip of his index finger to raise her chin up. "So what's it gonna be, Tiny. You staying…or going?"

For a long moment, the dorm room was silent the only sounds the hard and heavy breathing of the two people practically locked in a mental mortal combat of wills.

Happy saw the moment he won the battle as Tiny's shoulders slumped a little before straightening up. As she looked up into his face, Happy watched as the struggle played out across her features. "All right," she said quietly.

"All right, what?"

"I'm staying," Nico said her voice strong and unafraid.

"And your shit?" Happy waited, barely breathing. _It's all or nothing_.

"Belongs to you," she whispered.

* * *

Raising her head off the pillow, Nico cracked open one bleary eye at the sound of running water that emanated from the direction of the bathroom. The sound was interspersed with the swishing noises associated with the washing and rinsing out of some article of clothing most likely, and she wondered what the fuck Happy needed to clean so damned early in the morning.

The last thing she had expected when she had stopped by the lot had been to get into an epic face off with Happy and in front of the entire Club no less, but now, as she snuggled into the surprisingly comfortable bed under the thin bed sheet and blanket, Nico had to admit that regardless of the fact that she had set back the women's liberation movement 60 years, she was privately happy at how shit had worked out.

A woman would have to be dead not to enjoy when a man demanded in front of God and everybody that her shit was his and his alone. Bottom line, Nico had to wonder if the man had a little Italian blood in him as that was some truly macho bullshit he pulled off. In fact, as much as her father loved her and would not want any man to mistreat her, she wouldn't at all be surprised if Gianni Torelli would absolutely admire a man like Happy Lowman.

Happy had also been pretty slick in how he had maneuvered the situation to his advantage. Nico was an excellent lawyer and she had to admit that Happy had presented a reasonable argument for his actions. By insinuating that he was putting her pussy on lock down strictly as a means of protection, Happy could claim that their relationship, such as it was, was strictly impersonal.

But Nico had a different view.

Things were definitely changing between the two of them and if anything, Nico realized that they were becoming even more connected. There was a definite opportunity here, and if she could put aside her angst at being summarily railroaded into being Happy's "woman" in front of the Club, the end benefits might justify Happy's misogynist behavior.

And after the epic belly smack down he had put on her afterwards, Nico would have to completely own that shit. Always a woman who cared greatly about her own personal health, ever since hooking up with Happy Nico had made it a point of having plenty of condoms on hand and had been grateful that she had stuffed a few in her purse. Although her tubes were tied and it was unlikely that she would ever wind up pregnant, she was well aware of Happy's excessive lifestyle and the copious amounts of pussy that was available to him and Nico had no intention of being on the receiving end of an STD. As it was they had already slipped up once during her target practice and she wasn't intending on that happening again.

Their fucking tonight—the result of a very public argument and combined with all that latent sexual tension built up after not seeing each other for over a week—had been epic and Nico cringed a little as she was pretty sure that everyone in the Clubhouse had heard her submitting to all of Happy's ruthlessly ordered demands and her extremely noisy and happy response.

 _I'll simply have to find a way to keep my head above the fray and all the possible ribbing headed my way_ , Nico thought as she snuggled down under the covers. _Although one day I might have to thank Tig for being an interfering little shit_.

Hearing the noises as they continued from the bathroom, Nico was determined to roll back over and to catch another thirty minutes of sleep—but Happy's actions, were now too annoying to ignore as for the life of her she couldn't figure out what the outlaw was doing. With her insatiable need to know inconsequential shit, combined with the Mom-Gene that always alerted her to when something was going down that she wasn't going to like, Nico sighed heavily as she threw off the bedding that covered her naked ass and slipped out of the bed. Padding over to the open doorway on bare feet she leaned against the door frame to eye the biker warily as she watched him sloshing something about in the sink.

"Hap, what the fuck are you doing?" she muttered sleepily as her eyes slowly started to come into focus onto what was in his hands, her brain finally registered what it was her hot biker lover was so diligently cleaning.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" she bellowed, the full volume of her voice emanating from her small body and echoed loud enough for it to be heard outside of the small dorm room. "Your washing out—" she sputtered, unable to complete her train of thought as she stared in horror at Happy's large hands.

Happy turned towards her, a look of surprise on his face. "Damn Tiny, you know I don't know why I'm always so fucking surprised about how loud you can be for such a little bitch," he said as he squeezed out the excess water from what he held in his powerful hands and then shook it loose, turning to drape it over the top of the shower stall to sit with one other before reaching into the sink to grab another—

"—Condoms?! You are washing out condoms?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" Nico continued as her ire grew by leaps and bounds.

"Hell yeah, I'm washing them. What's the problem?" he looked completely unabashed as the petite vibrating woman stood with clenched fists at her hips as she started cursing in loud stream of Italian. "You know you really need to stop doing that shit. I can't understand a word you're saying."

" _Cara Madre di Dio!"_ Nico yelled. "Why?!"

"Because you shouldn't throw good money away, Tiny. This shit is expensive."

"I know! _I_ _bought the fuckers_!" she sputtered. "Are you telling me that you intend to _. . ._ to _. . ._ reuse—" Nico sagged against the doorframe, unable to concentrate as the ick factor sent her mind spiraling in disbelief.

"Why not? People waste too much damn shit nowadays. Snoop Dog said it best: 'I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind'. A smart man knows that you got to be mindful of wasteful spending," he said in a tone of a serious adult chiding a young and inexperienced child.

Nico wasn't having it.

"Look, I know that when we first started this shit it wasn't some fucking romance, just a whole lot of dirty loving and I was fine with that shit, but then YOU went and shouted out before God and every-fucking-body in this motherfucking Clubhouse that my pussy is under your lock and key. Regardless of whether you did it because you're trying to protect my ass or some _other_ reason like maybe you want to keep me all to yourself _because you really like me_ , I'll be _damned_ if I am going to be with a man who reuses fuckin' condoms that _I bought_ with some other bitch, cause for damn sure you won't be using that shit again with me," Nico retorted and snatching the wet condom out of his hands, she pushed past him and to grab the others, and with one swift motion, lifted the lid of the toilet, dumping and then flushing the offending items.

Deliberately ignoring the pointed innuendo of Tiny's argument, Happy crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Shit! None of the other bitches in the Clubhouse have complained to me when I recycled condoms before," he blustered.

"Not to your face they didn't! Probably because the poor bitches like living," she exclaimed as she took a long-suffering breath and exhaled slowly. "Killer, I know you're not used to dealing with a higher caliber of woman, but you're going to _have_ to learn fast. I'm not one of your biker groupies. _I don't hold up with nasty shit_."

"And I'm not one of your Guido's who carry around their mafia princesses on a fuckin' feather pillow, Tiny," he replied as he suddenly backed her ass against the shower stall. "If I was, you wouldn't be showing up looking to get properly fucked, now would you?" he said hard his tone bordering on lustful.

"One thing doesn't have shit to do with the other," she claimed.

 _Why am I lying to myself_? _He's right and the asshole knows it too_ , Nico thought as she watched the knowing grin spread across his features.

Straightening up, Nico tried to be reasonable. "Look," she said sensibly, "all I'm trying to say is that while I am sure being frugal is all well and good, there is a time and a place for that shit and let me be perfectly clear—the washing out of your chum filled used condoms the morning after banging the hell out of my shit is not the time or the place."

Shoving Happy aside with her hip, Nico shuddered a little as she washed her hands thoroughly, her fastidious nature just crawling with the idea that he could possibly reuse her condoms with another woman and she tried not to let her mind drift on the fact that Happy being with other woman bothered a hell of a lot more than she would have believed possible. But as her mind continued to race down that narrow and perilous road, Nico found her emotions suddenly morphing into anger.

Watching as she used a towel to dry her hands, Happy shrugged his shoulders. "All right Tiny, I guess I can be willing to make a _concession_ for your high falutin' ass."

"You mean you won't reuse my condoms with some other bitch?" Nico said sweetly, crossing her arms over her bare breasts.

"Yeah."

Reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, a real feat considering she was shoeless, Nico allowed her mouth to hover just barely touching his own. "Not fucking' good enough," she retorted, before turning around and stomping through the door, her ass twitching angrily with each step.

"What the fuck?!" Happy shouted as he stalked behind her and watched as she snatched up the thong from where he had flung it on the floor as she started to wiggle it on.

"You heard me, Hap." Standing up, Nico glared at him. "You want my shit under lock and key, fine. I ain't got a problem with that. There's nobody else here I'm that interested in fucking. But there won't be one rule for me and another for you. If my pussy is in lock down, then so is your dick."

"Tiny, you must be outta your damn mind!"

"If I am, it's because you've driven me to it. You seem to forget that I was in a relationship for 16 fucking years where my ex was the one who called the shots in our bed and I didn't like that shit one little bit, but at least he put a ring on it!" Nico stood like a fiery little virago as she proceeded to tear a strip off of Happy's hide. "I'm not asking for a ring from you, we don't have that kind of a relationship, our shit is just temporary but if you're gonna insist that I'm off limits to your Club brothers, then I'm not sharing you with the nasty heifers that hang out around here. Period." Nico shrugged and deliberately allowed her lip to quiver with emotion. "So if you can't deal with that shit—which I _know_ you can't—I guess maybe I _do_ need to get my shit and go," she sniffed dejectedly.

Turning around to pick up her bra off Happy's chest of drawers, Nico grin was triumphant as Happy's arms wrapped around her waist from behind to twist her around.

Quickly schooling her features to reflect righteous indignation mixed with hurt feelings, Nico peeped up between dark, thick lashes to eye the biker's disgruntled expression and squealed as Happy suddenly hoisted her up in his arms and headed towards the bed.

Dumping her on the bed he towered over her as he grabbed another condom from the night stand and ripped open the package to roll it on his already erect dick.

"Fine, Tiny. It's only a few more fuckin' months. Just remember that from now on, you're at my beck and call and I don't want to hear any fuckin' complaints."

Nico reached up to wrap her arms around Happy's neck to pull him down to her.

"Noted, Killer," she said breathlessly as she reached up to fasten her lips on Happy's sinfully sensuous lips just before he slipped inside her.

As she met Happy stroke for stroke, Nico threw her head back as she looked at him through barely open eyes that were nearly rolled back in her head as he continued to pump her.

_You may think you're running shit now, but I guran-damn-tee you that before this is over, you're never going to want to let me go._

_Believe that!_

* * *

"I'm telling ya Doc, yo shoulda been there." Tig grinned maniacally his voice rather nasal due to his broken and hugely swollen nose which Marlowe had already set with several strips of adhesive tape. "It was short and sweet and prolly the best damn fight Hap and me have ever had."

"I don't know brother," Kozik said from his perch on a bar stool. "From the way I hear it, there was some epic shit between you and him in the ring back in the day."

'Now that you mention it, yeah, there was one time where I did put it on him, but he deserved that shit," Tig grumbled. "Thai boys, my ass."

"Will you stop talking while I'm trying to sew your ass up?" Marlowe ordered as she worked to suture the wound near the base of Tig's hairline. "I can't believe you two went at each other like this." Marlowe cocked her head to the side. "No, actually I _can_ , but really. With a house full of visiting patches you felt the need to air SAMCRO's dirty laundry?"

"Yeah, that was my bad," Tig agreed, "but I did it for true love." Cackling, Kozik left his bar stool to sit down on the other side of his brother. "Somehow I don't think Hap saw it that way."

The Clubhouse was surprisingly quiet. It was nearly midnight, but the party that had been raging earlier in the evening had died a quick death. Soon after the epic beat down of Tig Trager—a feat that was probably making its way over all the gossip lines—the visiting patches had left Charming to get back on the road.

Marlowe had been surprised to get a call from her old man to come to the lot in her role as the Club's medic to patch up the loser of a brawl. Jax was not very forthcoming when he returned to the house to watch over their sleeping son as she made her way to T-M. Finding out upon her arrival that Tig was loser and that her brother had been responsible had really got her mental juices working as to why shit had gone down. But hearing Tig's allegation of assisting "true love" was all that she needed.

Grabbing a hold of Tig's curly locks, Marlowe gave it a hard tug and nodded in satisfaction when he yelled.

"What the fuck?" he barked.

"What did you do to Nico?" Marlowe demanded. "True love, huh? Did you try some shit with her? Do _I_ have to fuck you up?"

"Hold on, Doc," Kozik said in Tig's defense. "It wasn't anything like that. Tigger never laid a hand on Nico."

"Nah," Tig rubbed his head ruefully. "I just let Hap _think_ I was gonna. His imagination did the rest, and all of this shit," he waved at his injuries, "was the result." He grinned, wincing at his split lip which was held together with a couple of butterfly strips. "I guess Hap didn't like me offering my services, impressive as they are, _to his girl_ , which is why he tried to beat my ass into an early grave."

" _His girl_?!" Marlowe uttered with amazement.

"Uh huh. Hap would have too, if it hadn't been for Opie and Chibs," Kozik replied, and reaching over handed Marlowe the role of adhesive so that she could finish dressing Tig's wound. "Personally, I think they should have let Hap get in a few more shots. I mean telling Nico that you were going to hook her up with another patch—that was priceless."

"That shit totally sent him over the edge," Tig agreed. "That's when he started beating my ass. After my brothers came to my rescue, Nico tore a strip off of him."

"Well, technically she tried," Kozik offered. "Didn't work out too well, though."

"What did Hap do?" Marlowe said ominously.

"Oh, nothing really bad," Tig said causally. "My brother just got up in front of everybody in the fuckin' clubhouse and said that her pussy belonged to him. Period."

"That shit was _deep_ ," Kozik grinned. "I mean, he didn't crow her—"

"He might as well have," Tig shot back. "Telling a room full of brothers that a bitch is off limits to everybody but himself? _And_ that he would bust a cap in the ass of any fucker who tried it on with her? That says a fuckin mouthful."

"So let me get this straight," Marlowe began slowly. "You deliberately baited my asshole of a brother in order to get him to declare that Nico belongs to him in effect putting his heart on his kutte before God and everybody?" she said evenly.

Tig eyed her with apprehension. After all, Doc was a tough bitch and as the Prez's old lady, was practically the HBIC in Charming. She had a magnificent pair of guns for biceps and carried a KA-BAR and knew how to use it, never mind her being a crack shot. Tig would never be scared of _any_ bitch, but Marlowe as a former corpsman and brother-in-arms, gave him pause. "Uh, yeah," he finally admitted.

Marlowe put down the remains of the sterile gauze and adhesive, and stripped off her latex gloves, rolling them into a wad for disposal. Then reaching over, she used both hands to grab Tig by the face, bent over and laid a big fat kiss right on his lips.

It happened so damn fast, Tig barely had time to register or enjoy it, and totally ignored the loud whooping of his brother. "What-?" he sputtered.

"I hope you enjoyed that shit Ace, 'cause it's likely never to happen again," Marlowe said with a huge shit-eating grin. "But boy, you really deserve that shit!" Fist pumping the air as her sperm donor father looked on, Tig's shoulders started to shake with laughter.

"Damn, if I knew that's all I had to do get a kiss outta ya, I would have messed with Hap at Gemma's dinner months ago," he howled.

"Nah, it wouldn't have worked then," Kozik sputtered. "It was way too early for Hap to have been into Nico."

"Shit! This calls for a round of drinks to celebrate," Marlowe announced and leaping up, went around the bar to get grab a bottle of Jax and some shot glasses before returning to the table.

"So where are they now?" she asked as she poured out the whiskey.

"He carried her off to his dorm cave man style and we haven' seen either of them since."

"No, but we for damn sure _heard_ them," Kozik raised his glass in salute to his brother before downing his shot.

"Oh, shit!" Marlowe sniggered. "Wait until I tell Lyla. We've been waiting for this shit to go down." She knocked back her drink.

"You too, huh?" Kozik said with a wry grin. "I don't know why I should be surprised. After all, you get your smarts from me, not your egg donor. Me and Tigger put two and two together for a while that Hap was hooked on 'Tiny'," Kozik made air quotes, "but I wasn't sure how many others were clued in."

"Oh believe me, you weren't alone. I'm sure my old man knows, although he hasn't outright said anything to me and Lyla said Opie's wise to this shit too. And if anybody knows anything in this Clubhouse its Bobby."

"Shit, this is sounding more like a damn soap opera than a fuckin' MC," Tig shook his head a little dismally.

"Hey, I think it's a good thing," Kozik replied. The usually optimistic brother leaned back in his chair. "Hap ain't getting any younger. And yeah, I enjoy the bachelor life myself, but seeing our Prez end up with one hell of an old lady," he shrugged his shoulders, "makes me think that living this life ain't worth shit if you don't have somebody by your side to make it all worthwhile is all," he concluded.

"Damn," Tig wondered. "My brother is growing a pussy," he announced.

"Leave him alone," Marlowe said as she reached over to slap him on the shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to have somebody by your side Tigger. Not to sound maudlin or anything, but if I had one wish, I'd want that for all of SAMCRO. I don't expect that shit to happen—let's face it—it takes a lot to tie yourself to another human being whose inherent craziness won't make you want to go out and eat your gun. But at the very least I want for you guys to be safe and happy, especially Hap."

"That's just the little sister in you looking out for your kin," Kozik remarked. "It's not maudlin. It's a good thing."

"Well, now that my brother has as good as hooked Nico, he needs to keep her ass," Marlowe declared as she started to clean up her workspace and repack her med kit. "I think that for now, we should all stay out of it."

"Why?" Tig whined. "I like playing with shit."

"Yeah, I get that," Marlowe stood as she slung her backpack on her shoulders. "But if everyone gets in on this shit, it's liable to piss Hap off. I know my brother. Some shit he's got to realize on his own. You gave him a pretty big push. Let him figure out the rest on his own."

"A'ight Doc. Whatever you say."

"I will be keeping an eye out on the situation though. He steps too far out of line, I'll kick his ass back in. Believe that. Well, I better get out of here. You think those ribs of yours are okay?"

"Yeah, I don't think they need taping. I've felt worse."

The patches watched as Marlowe exited the Clubhouse.

"I think my kid is definitely on the money," Kozik replied as he poured a couple of fresh shots.

"Shit is certainly going to be real interesting around here," his brother agreed.

* * *

**Glossary**

_Cara Madre di Dio_ Dear Mother of God


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

 

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Thursday, May 19, 2011** _

There was going to have to be a healing.

If there was one thing Happy Lowman did not like, it was apologizing for shit. As a Son of Anarchy, Happy was no stranger in getting into some beef with another brother. He had lost count over the years on how many brawls he had been in, only remembering the beat downs he had administered, which were numerous.

But whenever some particularly flammable situation came up between brothers, it was S.O.P. that the two parties would have to "heal" the situation. John Teller had been a stickler when it came to protecting the peace of the brotherhood and while beating the shit outta each other wasn't the only way to settle shit, it was by far the most popular amongst the Sons of Anarchy.

Having showered and dressed for the day, Happy gathered his belongings and headed for the door. Tiny had long since departed, having elected to slip out of the back door of the Clubhouse. Happy had been tempted to tease her ass about trying to avoid his brothers, but he figured that after what had gone down the night before, Tiny was entitled to her privacy, at least what little remained of it.

Now that she was off the premises, Happy needed to seek out his brother.

_To handle some shit._

* * *

"Motherfucker," Tig grumbled as he eyed his reflection in the bar's mirror. "Hap really jacked me up." The biker's face resembled a palette of colors ranging from black to yellow. With a deep wound on his forehead, courtesy of Happy's reaper ring, a broken nose, busted lip and a swollen shut eye, Tig's face was an advertisement for first aid products, the bandages, adhesive tape and butterfly strips standing out against his mottled skin in stark relief.

"Uh, yeah, bro," Kozik replied. "And you weren't too pretty to begin with. You kinda look like one of them zombies from _The Walking Dead_."

"Kiss my ass."

"Sorry bro, when I kiss ass, it's got to be young, perky and female. I don't do old man booty, especially the scarred up shit you're rocking."

Sitting at the bar the two men were having a makeshift breakfast of coffee and Bobby's banana bread before starting a shift at T-M. With the Clubhouse deserted, the two men were quietly commiserating over last evening's main event.

"You know, considering what you pulled, you're lucky that it wasn't worse than it was. I told you it wasn't a good idea pissing off Hap like that."

Tig grinned. "Yeah, but the shit that came after—that was sweet." He looked around the empty Clubhouse. "Speaking of sweet, have you seen Nico?"

"Nah bro, but I was outside and her car ain't in the lot, so maybe she ducked out early." Kozik smirked. "Who knew a lawyer from Reno could scream so damn loud?"

"Yeah, Hap is a lucky bitch."

"You, on the other hand, ain't so fuckin' lucky," Hap said as he made his way over to his brothers.

"Oh shit," Kozik muttered as he noted the angry glint in his brother's eye.

Tig apparently didn't see shit. "Hey man," he said cheerfully. "How's it hanging?

"My shit is fine," Happy growled, "but your shit is about to get twisted off and run over with my ride."

"Aw," Tig crooned. "Sounds like somebody is still upset with me. And after everything I did for you too."

"What you did for me? Asshole what shit have you been smoking?"

"Nothing man. You know Bobby's rule: no bug before 9:00." Tig countered as he leaned back against the bar.

Kozik had to admire Tig. He was as cool as a cucumber in the face of Happy's ire, as if he had completely forgotten that he had beat the shit out of him.

_Obviously, Tigger is looking for seconds and if I don't step into this shit, he's gonna get it and probably thirds too._

"Look, Hap, you know who you're dealing with. here. Yeah, Tig is a little demented—"

"Hey," Tig exclaimed.

"—but he didn't mean any disrespect to Nico. Right Tiggy?" Kozik said meaningfully as he bore eyes into his brother.

"Well—"Tig drawled and rolled his eyes as Kozik slapped him on the back of his head. "All right, Oprah, shit," he grumbled as he held up his ringed hand in a gesture of surrender. "Look me and Kozy just wanted—"

"You mean, _you_ asshole," Kozik interrupted. "Don't put me in the middle of this shit. I'm too pretty to get stomped on."

" _We_ ," Tig insisted, "didn't really believe that you didn't have any shit going on with Tiny is all and –"

And was roughly yoked up against the bar as Happy grabbed him by the collar of his T-M work shirt and shook him like a rag doll. "In your mouth, her name is _Nico_ ," Happy growled.

"Jesus, Hap," Kozik said as he got between the two men.

 _Deja-fucking-vu_ , he thought as he recalled a similar situation, only that time it was Tig getting in between Jax and Happy while he lay helpless in his bed during his recovery at the rehab center. "Quit it you two. Maybe you two should just get in the ring now." Kozik ran his hand through his spiky hair. "As I was saying, I think that our brother here was, in his own demented way, trying to understand just where your head was at concerning Nico's status in the Club. Okay, so Tig acting an ass pushed you to step up, but I see it as a good thing. The word will get around and anybody who stops by the lot to hang out will know that Nico is not to be messed with as _nobody_ wants to fuck with the SAMCRO SAA. Unlike Tig here, the rest of our brothers are relatively sane. And you keeping her shit locked down while she's in Charming ain't a big fuckin' deal.

"Technically speaking, this jarhead kinda helped you out and the fact that Nico didn't come out of your room last night, means that you put her ass in check and she's accepted that shit. Not that I ever had any doubt. You are a master, bro," Kozik concluded. "But if you are really that pissed off at Tig, you know what J.T. would have us do right about now."

"Yeah," Happy grinned faintly. "He'd tell us to either take this shit to the ring and have a healing or hug shit out."

"So it's up to you," Kozik said affably. "What's it gonna be?"

Standing up fully, Tig opened his arms wide. "C'mon brother, you know you love my crazy ass," he said with a wide grin and watched as Happy rolled his eyes.

"Stupid motherfucker," Happy muttered before stepping forward and Kozik grinned as the two hugged it out, giving each other back slapping hugs.

"Well, that's a relief."

"Yeah man. Not that I'm a pussy, but shit, you fucked me up last night."

"You deserved that shit," Happy replied.

"Hey, Kozy is right. As far as I'm concerned I did you a fuckin' favor," Tig retorted. "Just think, a fine looking woman like Ti—Nico—smart, classy _and_ got her own fucking money. I know you ain't about getting an old lady, but you might want to consider holding onto that shit for good."

Kozik hung his head. _We were so close_ , he thought with a sigh.

"Old. Lady?" Happy said in a dangerous tone.

"Yeah, I mean, if I had a woman like that hanging off my dick, I might be inclined to consider that shit. After all, your what, six years younger than me and Koz? Having a sweet old lady to make your golden years easy could be a good thing. After clearing up that crazy shit when that sweetbutt from Indian Hills came to town, Clay done seen the light. Why you think he ain't trying to mess shit up with Gemma? 'Cause he's got a good woman who will take care of his old cranky ass," Tig said triumphantly. "I think you should thank my ass for helping you out."

Fearing the blood bath that was certainly now going to happen, Kozik sighed with relief as Happy simply turned and headed for the door. His stupid brother, however, kept pushing the envelope.

"Okay, you don't have to thank me," Tig called out to Happy's retreating back. "Just name your first kid after me. Alexandra Lowman sounds nice," as Kozik's body slumped against the bar as he started to rock with laughter. "Or how about Tigina? _Nobody_ will be rocking a name like that."

"Forget the ring. You're going to end up in Chigger Woods for that shit," Kozik wheezed as the door slammed shut behind their brother.

* * *

"So that's where I'm at," Jax concluded as he sat back in the deep blue and gold French styled chair.

The SAMCRO Prez made quite an imposing figure despite the showy and somewhat fragile looking chair he sat in. For a fact the entire room in which the chair was in was certainly not type of room one would expect to be the home of a one percenter unless that biker was also an Elvis impersonator.

The home of Bobby Munson definitely had a bit of flair for an aging, potbellied lover of all things Elvis. Sitting in a living room decorated in walls of burnt orange and French-styled furniture of royal blue and gold, the décor revealed that Bobby had a very eclectic style. A wall unit of dark brown and black revealed object d'art from varying tastes to vases and several nude busts of Rubenesque women. A variety of colorful paintings on the walls, a flat screen and surround sound entertainment system and a corner of the room filled with several guitars completed the look of a swinging bachelor pad.

The room was filled with smoke from the cigarettes of its three occupants. While Bobby occupied his favorite spot, a loveseat in royal blue with gold gilt edging, Chibs occupied the matching chair to Jax across from him. The conversation was of a most serious nature.

To say that the shaggy haired biker had been surprised at Jax's request for a sit down would be inaccurate. The fact was, in his mind, having this private conversation was long overdue. As the father confessor of the charter and a man of quiet reflection when it was needed, Bobby was not a man who needed someone to draw him a picture about where things were headed with the political aspects of the Club. Change had been in the air for some time, going back probably to the day when Jax's son had entered the world and he had been looking forward to it for a long time. Bobby had greatly feared that Jax's head had been turned by Clay when he actively supported facilitating the gun deal between the Galindo Cartel and the Irish with the agreement to mule coke for the Cartel. Bobby had been troubled that his hopes for the next generation of SAMCRO to stop the endless cycle of violence and prison stretches had been permanently put to bed and he had as much had said so in numerous conversations with Chibs.

As for the Scotsman, he had agreed with him.

As another Club member who had been against the vote to mule drugs, Chibs had felt that the drugs would only make a situation that was already murky—willingly doing business with a drug cartel—even murkier. He had been in agreement with Piney that getting involved with Galindo could ultimately have bad consequences for the Club with the Irish on one side and the Cartel on the other. Being in the middle of either violent organization would be a tricky situation, but with finally handing off the muling to the Mayans, Chibs had been feeling slightly better regarding the Club's position.

Now, as the SAMCRO Prez finally revealed his true endgame for the Club, it was now time for both men to weigh in with their thoughts.

"It's about time, Jackie Boy," Chibs said as he put down his glass of Jameson. "A long fuckin' time overdue."

Jax sat back and sighed. "You really mean that, brother?"

"I do," he replied. "Yer nae I'm not one to shrug off bad shite, but let's face it. The last couple of years have been fuckin' bloody awful brutha, and we've all managed to pay a price for it in some way."

"Chibs is right," Bobby agreed. "Trouble with other crews—the Nords, the LOAN assholes, the ROC, our women being raped and killed, jail time and assassination attempts—we've been through it all. And even though we've seemed to have entered a time where shit is quiet for now—" he paused.

"—it won't stay that way," Jax finished. "All this bad shit we've suffered, it's not what I want—for me or my brothers. And it's not what my father wanted."

"Your father was a smart man," Bobby replied. "Obviously he saw the handwriting on the wall, enough to leave you a manifesto of sorts to fix it." He pointed the black loose leaf binder containing JT's words of wisdom that sat on his coffee table. "But implementing it hasn't been easy for you, has it son?"

"No it hasn't. I've been trying to fix this shit ever since Abel was born. The problem was that I was an arrogant son of a bitch to think that I could do it alone. I needed help and I've been slowly making my moves to put shit in play."

"The first being getting our brutha out of that seat," Chibs said wisely and grinned, the scars stretching widely as Jax gave him the eye. "Jackie boy, Bobby told me how you maneuvered Clay out. That was some slick shite."

"And necessary," Bobby chimed in. "You know how much I love my brother, but there was no way you were going to be able to get that stubborn old cob of a biker to change. You gotta change shit for him."

"Well, you can't teach an old dog new tricks, Jax said, "but you can change the aspects of the game in order to force him to move in a different direction, whether he likes it or not." He grinned as he lit up another cigarette. "Changing the leadership structure was the first step. Introducing new business opportunities was the second. Building upon those opportunities is the third, which is why I brought Nico in to help us get our legitimate business up and running to speed to generate a fair amount of income. But in order to keep up with those opportunities, as well as to start prepping for the final stage, I'm going to need help from both of you, that is, if you are on board.

"I'm with ya brutha…I've got your back," Chibs and Bobby replied simultaneously.

Standing up, Jax reached over to give them broth bro hugs before sitting down again. "Great," he said confidently. "With Piney in the background and the six of us working together, I'm starting to see an endgame to this situation with the Irish and the Cartel, but in order for that to happen, we need to put some things in place."

"Like what?" Chibs asked as he poured another shot of liquor.

"Bodies for one. The problem with the gun running is that it only required a small amount of brothers to handle the actual work load, but had a huge return in cash. Nature abhors a vacuum and when that business and the cash that comes with it is gone, we are going to have to work a lot harder to bring in that kind of income, which is why I pushed to bring on Unser Trucking and to reboot Cara Cara."

"The porn business was a solid money maker for us," Bobby agreed.

"And Unser Trucking is starting to pick up and once Nico is finished revamping it, I think we will even see more in the way of business. But I also have another play that will expand our current business with T-M." Jax took a few moments to explain his plan."

"Shite, brutha. Clay is going to birth a baby cow when he finds out," Chibs said with a frown. "Don't get me wrong it's a good idea, but it could have an impact on our Irish business in the immediate future."

"That may be a possibility, which is why we need to get more brothers in the charter. There's 12 of us, including Piney, but we need a few more bodies at the table, brothers who have been tried and tested—longtime members who are willing to work hard and to support the mother charter in taking this new direction. I want to put that task on you Bobby. There's nobody I trust more than to put the needs of the Club first and in finding the right type of men who are truly about the brotherhood, who aren't just looking out to get paid and are willing to sacrifice for the good of the Club. It'll mean you going walkabout for a while, visiting charters and discreetly feeling brothers out. Can you do that?"

Bobby nodded slowly and grinned. "I think I can handle that shit. Nico has hooked me up with a few gigs at the Syndicate's casino in Tahoe and Vegas over the next couple of months. It will be a prime opportunity for me to visit all the charters in the region without anybody being the wiser about my true agenda and best of all, I'll get to dust off the old Fat Boy for a good long ride." He held up both his hands as his president gave him the hairy eyeball. "Don't worry, brother. I'll get Lowell to help me give it a really good overhaul before I take it on the road again."

"If that shit ain't up to specs, you ain't taking it out of this garage," Jax said with steel in his voice. "The last time that shit hit the road, Tig ended up in the hospital and in the hands of fuckin' bounty hunters. The last thing I need is for your fat ass to be spread all over the 580."

"I promise. Scouts Honor," Bobby replied with a twinkle in his eye as he crossed his heart.

"And take one of the prospects with you on a couple of trips," Jax ordered. "RatBoy. See how he handles himself dealing with patches from other charters."

Bobby raised an eyebrow that disappeared under his shaggy hair. "Are you setting my ass up with a babysitter?"

"Nope," Jax lied easily with a shit eating grin, "just looking for an opportunity for my prospect to be tested by an old hound dog." _Him watching out for your ass will just be a side benefit._

"It's a good idea, Bobby," Chibs agreed. "As for me, I now see why you pulled me aside about my trip to Belfast. Am I right?"

"Exactly." Jax watched as Chibs' eyes widened with interest.

With the death of Jimmy O'Phelan, a former front man for the Irish Kings turned traitor, the former impediment that had separated Chibs from his wife Fiona and their daughter Kerianne had been removed allowing the family to reunite briefly before Chibs had returned to the states, respecting his family's wishes to remain in Ireland.

With promises that he would come back to visit, Chibs had to postpone making a visit with the immediate incarceration of his brothers in Stockton prison and then again when they got out of prison and he was needed to help get their gun running business back on board. Now that things had smoothed out after the Lobos Sonora/Galindo Cartel War in NorCal and the Ghanezi Brothers situation, Chibs had finally made plans to visit his family and was scheduled arrive mid-summer.

"With you being in Ireland soon, it will be a good opportunity to do some networking with not just SAMBEL but with the Irish. The final endgame for us will be the hardest of them all—cutting the ties that bind—a nearly 25-year relationship with the Irish. It's not going to be an easy one to navigate."

"There's a lot of truth to that, lad," Chibs said a little grimly. "Especially in dealing with the likes of Galen. He has no love for you Jackie Boy."

"Well the feeling is fuckin' mutual," Jax growled as he thought of the taciturn and self-assured man. "He's supposed to be a pretty big deal now that Jimmy O was taken out of the picture. But we need to know what we are dealing with here, what kind of rep the man has and how strong is his pull with the Kings. I want to find out how big their business is—how widespread their other territories are in comparison with NorCal. Knowing how important our piece of the action is for them could give us an indication of how hard we're going to have to negotiate to get the Kings to cut us loose and to go for Door No. 2."

"And wha's behind that door?" Chibs questioned. "If we're not going to run the guns for the Irish, whatever we put in its place is going to have to be juicy enough for them to even consider letting us go."

Jax sighed. "I know. That's the rub. Even if we manage to get all the new businesses on board, there's no guarantee that we'll be able to get out from under the Irish. And there's the impact that the gun vacuum can have on all of the crews who buy weapons from us in NorCal. That's why we need to gather as much Intel as possible before we make any moves. We can't bring the idea of shedding the gun business to the table until we can definitely predict its successful outcome."

"And we nullify any moves that Clay might have to thwart the move," Bobby concluded.

Chibs shook his head. "Mejority rules, brutha," he decreed. He gave Jax a hard look. "Ya just naed to keep Clay out of the loop. Eventually, he's see the reasoning behind it."

"That may be easier said than done. He still has Tig in his corner. I love the crazy bastard, but he's more of a follower, not a thinker," Jax said as he stubbed out his cigarette. "While it's true that that a majority vote can carry the day, who's to say that he won't reach out for a Charter wide forum if he thinks that my leadership is putting the whole Club in jeopardy?"

"It's never happened in the history of the Club," Bobby replied. "A forum would require at every president from all the NorCal charters to overrule the mother charter and force you out. I can't believe Clay would be willing to go that far to strip your patch."

"Mother Gemma would kill his ass," Chibs agreed. "Especially if by some stretch it was decided that you meet Mr. Mayhem as well." Standing up, Chibs walked over to slap a meaty hand on his president's back.

"As Bobby would say, there's no need to go to the scary place just yet, brutha. Let's take it one step at a time. Jus know that no matter what happens, I will always have your back."

Looking up at his brothers, Jackson Teller was feeling all sorts of emotions. Today he had taken one step closer to bringing a period of peace and prosperity to his Club.

Now all he had to do was trust that they would get there.

* * *

_**Stockton Prison—Friday, May 20, 2011** _

The trip to Stockton Prison was one that Nico had been anticipating ever since her meeting with Lois Brewster several weeks ago. Having been away from Charming for a time, Nico was raring to go and with the demise of Georgie Caruso, Jax had given the go ahead to tackle what was probably the most important part of rebooting Cara Cara.

Meeting with Otto Delaney.

Nico had reached out to Lois Brewster yesterday and had been surprised to discover that she had already put the wheels into motion and had Nico registered with the prison and with the Department of Corrections as her brother's new attorney of record.

Now it was up to her, with great assistance from Happy, to convey the Club's agenda and to hopefully reach a satisfactory situation with the patch who had sacrificed everything for his Club.

Coordinating with the prison, Nico had managed to secure a private meeting room so that she could consult with her new client. The room consisted of dark grey cement walls and a circular table with a matching bench sat in the middle of the room. Except for the huge C.O. that was standing at attention at the door, the room was quiet as Nico and Happy waited for Otto to be brought in.

"Shit, this gives off memories," Happy muttered from his position next to Nico. Dressed in plain clothes and minus his kutte, Happy looked out of character without his shoulder holster and beloved leather kutte.

"You've seen a lot of time in here, huh?" she asked quietly.

"Probably not my fair share," he replied. "I got away with a lotta shit."

"No doubt. After all, you're a smart motherfucker."

"Exactly," Happy grinned and opening his mouth abruptly closed it as the door to the room opened.

In the doorway, Nico saw a tall, muscular man standing between two large bulls. Wearing the customary prison garb in bright orange, the man, whose long greying dark hair was pulled back into a rubber band, had on a set of arm and leg irons as he shuffled into the room. A pair of large black rimmed coke bottle glasses were perched on his nose.

However powerful this man might have once been in his prime, the man that shuffled forward and who was seated and chained to the desk and floor was a shadow of the man he had been.

Nico waited patiently while the bulls made quick work of settling the prisoner before they rattled off the general instructions on how to conduct herself with the prisoner before withdrawing from the room, leaving the C.O. behind.

"Hello Mr. Delaney. I'm Nico Torelli. As you may know your sister retained me as your counsel. I believe you know my associate," Nico said briskly and with respect as she nodded towards Happy.

"Yeah, I know him," Otto replied as he turned to face his brother. "It's been a long time, Hap."

"It has," Happy nodded soberly. "I see that tat I did for you is still holding up, brother."

Otto reached over to stroke his forearm. Despite not having been touched up for many years, the black matte finish of his old lady's name was still prominently displayed. "Yeah, you always did good work, Hap."

"Speaking of tats, Big O, I just got me another one," Happy said casually, patting his abdomen soundly.

The noise had Otto focusing on Happy's mid-section. "Oh, yeah?" Otto replied thoughtfully, folding his arms on the metal table.

Happy could see that he had his brother's full attention. "Yeah. It's kind of like, a memorial and shit, ya know.

"Anybody I know?" Otto inquired cautiously.

Happy shook his head. "Nah, bro, you wouldn't know 'em. Dude died of _cancer_. Prolly should have bought the farm a couple of years ago, but he somehow managed to hang on for a while. Just passed a couple of weeks ago."

That's too bad," Otto managed to say

"Yeah. It wasn't quick, either. Pretty painful way to go in the end. Cancer spread all over, but the stomach, that's a _real bitch_. The pain is incredible, almost like being gut shot, ya know. Took a long time for him to die."

"Must have been a real pisser," Otto said, the faintest of grins on his face.

"Yeah. He didn't have much in the way of family that I know of, but I gotta hope that somebody will be glad—I mean sad, that he's dead and gone."

"I'm sure."

"Well, I guess that's enough jawin'," Happy said as he leaned back in his chair. "Maybe I should let Ti—Nico here help you handle your business."

Seeing that her plan of having Happy communicate the "good news" to his brother had the desired effect, Nico easily took the ball that Happy had tossed in her direction. "Thanks Hap," Nico replied quietly. "Mr. Delaney—"

"Otto."

"Otto, your sister Lois retained my services to help you regarding the handling of your personal affairs now that—" she hesitated.

"Now that it looks like I'm going to croak sooner rather than later," Otto replied. "No need to be delicate about shit."

"All right then," Nico said. "I understand from the DA's office that you have waived all rights to appeal the sentencing that was passed down on you in 2009?" At Otto's nod, she continued.

"If the bureaucracy of the California court system holds true to form, your sentence—barring any other complications—would be carried out by the first quarter of 2012. I understand that you would like to wrap up all of your legal affairs as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I got some shit I want to get straight."

"Then why don't we get started."

* * *

The tone of the group around the table was anticipatory as the patches waited for Jax to open the meeting. It was the second formal meeting where an outsider would attend Church, but considering the nature of the meeting, it only seemed right that it should take place around the Redwood table.

The SAMCRO Prez had been waiting all afternoon for the return of his SAA and Nico Torelli from their meet with their incarcerated brother. The fact was Jax had wanted to go for himself, but Happy had convinced him to hold back and to let him and Nico handle this first meet. Now as he slammed the gavel down, Jax could only hope that Nico—in the role of their counselor and his newly acquired big sister—had managed to bring closure and peace to his brother and at the same time open up a way for things to go well for the Club's continued foray into the world of legitimate business.

"Well?" he asked directing his question to Nico, who was sitting in between him and Happy, the one word question a mix of anxiety and hope.

"It went well," Nico said quietly and reached over to squeeze his arm. "I think it went very well," and smiled as sighs of relief and exclamations could be heard around the table.

"So Otto knows—" Juice hesitated.

"That the motherfuckers responsible for murdering his old lady is dead?" Happy asked. "Yeah. I was able to make that clear without stating the obvious. Tiny was able to secure a private room for the meet, but we still had a Bull on hand so I had to keep shit pretty basic. Using the guise of handing him some paperwork, Nico was able to slip him the letter Jax wrote. He knows that Jaye and Georgie is maggot food. Believe me, Otto knows that the Club has done right by Luann and he's grateful."

"And the other stuff," Tig asked. "That's been handled?"

Nico nodded. "Yes. As Otto's new estate lawyer, I am now in the position to help Otto wrap up all of his affairs before his scheduled execution. There will be a lot of paperwork involved to get his personal finances in order and a finalized will to deal with all of his remaining worldly possessions.

"Otto has chosen to leave all of his earthly goods to be split evenly between his sister Lois, and Luann's sister, Angela, who resides in Arizona. As to his interest in Cara Cara Productions, he is willing to sell his interest back to the Club in exchange for—" Nico named the amount, "which considering the catalogue of films still available for redistribution to other foreign markets, is a reasonable amount. He also asks, however, that his sister and sister-in-law receive a 2% share of the studio's profits for the next 10 years as long as they are alive during that period. Should one predecease the other, the living beneficiary will receive the entirety of the money."

"I think that seems reasonable," Opie opined and Nico watched as their brothers nodded.

"By selling his interest, Otto understands that he is giving up all rights with the business. He does wish, however, that the name of the studio continue to be Cara Cara Productions, in memory of his old lady."

"That seems only fair," Clay said, drawing some surprised looks. "Hey, I can get behind a sitch like a good little patch," he scoffed as he eyed his son.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it," Jax replied evenly. "We owe a lot to Otto."

The momentary tension was displaced with Nico's next words. "It shouldn't take me any more than a couple of weeks to get the final paperwork drawn up for Cara Cara and to get Otto's will ready for his signature. When I go back to see him," Nico looked at Jax, "Otto has requested that you come too. That is, if you don't mind—"

"Of course I'll come," Jax replied.

"Well, if all goes according to plan, the Club should be officially the owners of Cara Cara Productions, LLP. Then the Club can officially move forward with the purchase of the studio in Stockton and I can set up a meet with Torelli Construction & Supplies to see what it's going to cost you to get the space in working order to start producing flicks by the fall." Nico grinned. "Just think, Jax. You could be the next Larry Flynt."

"Not likely if Marley has anything to say about that shit," Happy grunted as his brothers laughed. "She's got my brother's balls on a key chain."

"Oh," Jax started with a glint of humor in his eyes, "and Nico doesn't—"

"—doesn't want the Club to have to vote in a new Prez so she counsels the current Prez not to complete that train of thought," Nico quickly cautioned as Happy gave Jax the hairy eyeball.

"Far be it for me not to follow the advice of my consigliore," Jax drawled, "but I do think that this news requires some celebration, so I am using my authority as president to order a night of debauchery this Sunday."

Nico rolled her eyes. "And how is this Sunday any different than any other after church party?"

"Because this time I'm in the mood to have an old fashioned poker night," Jax grinned. "We haven't had one of those probably since before my kid was born."

"Hey, that's a pretty good idea," Tig said a little gleefully. "I wouldn't mind taking some of you clowns for a couple of thousand bucks, especially now that we have so much to spread around, huh?"

"Well, as much fun as that sounds, I don't think we can do this shit without Nico as our guest of honor," Jax grinned as her eyes widened in surprise.

"Just look at this shindig as a small thank you from the Club to you, Nico. You said that you would pull this shit together, get things straightened up for us with UT and now with Cara Cara on its way to being a done deal, this is just our way of showing our appreciation for helping us out." His statement was suddenly followed by the loud stamping of feet and banging on the Redwood table by his fellow brothers.

Unexpectedly feeling a little emotional, it took Nico a moment to respond. 'Well, right back at you Prez. All of you had made my stay in Charming very pleasant—"

"Some more than others," Filthy Phil said _sotto voce_.

"Shut your pie hole asshole," Happy said from his seat and Nico watched in satisfaction as the large mountain of a man with horn-rimmed glasses almost withered in his chair.

Nico nearly rolled her eyes at the smothered laughs and grins from around the table and considering the shit that had gone down in the Clubhouse only days before, it had been a miracle that she had managed to get through this meeting without some patch referring to her open liaison with the Club's SAA, but she was determined to hold her head up high. Fortunately, it seemed that Happy wasn't going to let her ass get ribbed too badly.

"—and I have to say I wouldn't mind hanging out with you guys, especially if my favorite old ladies will be on hand."

"We wouldn't party any other way," Jax replied.

* * *

All things considered, Nico figured she had gotten off easy. Although her prime objective in participating in the church session had been to update Jax and the Club on the outcome of meet she had with Otto Delaney, it was her first time back in the Clubhouse after her very public showdown with Happy and she had anticipated being on the receiving end of some intense razzing.

With only one smart comment lobbed in her direction from one of the younger patches, Nico wondered if Happy had put the word out not to give her any shit prior to the meeting. If he had, she was definitely grateful.

It was unlikely that Happy had been on the receiving end of any shit. After all, Happy Lowman had a reputation as a hardcore biker to maintain she couldn't imagine any of this brothers giving him shit, with the exception of Tig, who had been fully responsible for shit getting out of control.

Having a little sympathy for her, Happy had gone out of his way to show her the back door of the Clubhouse so that she could make an escape and avoid doing her Walk of Shame through the Clubhouse. So with Happy holding his brothers at bay, Nico figured that there would be no one else to poke shit at her for her new status with the Club's SAA.

Unfortunately, Happy had completely dropped the ball when it came to Gemma Teller.

After the meet was over, Nico was intent on making a beeline to her car. The lot was already busy with the hang-arounds who were waiting for the after church party to begin and all Nico wanted to do was to get home. After all, she had been "ordered" to get her ass off the lot and home asap with a stern reminder that she'd be having company later that night.

Happy had followed behind her as she exited and out of sight of his brothers had grabbed her from behind and twisting her around had laid an eye-popping kiss on her. Smacking her on the ass, he tossed one final order at her.

"Some pancakes would be really good tomorrow."

Snapping her head around she eyed the biker, a small smirk creeping across her face. "So is that an indirect way of telling me you'll be _around_ for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Make of it what you will," he tossed off as he returned inside. "And have plenty of maple syrup. That was some good shit."

Smothering a laugh, Nico had practically trotted to her car. She had managed to open the door and toss in her briefcase when a voice from behind her caused her to start abruptly.

"Running off so soon?" a caustic voice said wryly. "I guess you're not too interested in slumming today?"

Nico put a hand on her erratically thumping chest for a brief moment before straightening her should before she turned around to eye Gemma Teller Morrow. The tall woman was standing in front of her, a hand cocked on one hip that was encased in black denim skinny jeans, open toed sandals and a flowing white blouse with a deep V-neck. "Shit," she muttered. "What are you—part ninja?"

Gemma cackled. "Sorry, didn't me to scare you. You sure are a jittery little thing, huh?"

Nico crossed her arms over her chest. "Actually, I'm neither," she lied easily. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Well, I heard from Clay that you were going to be on the lot tonight, so I decided to keep an eye out for you. You know, you've been in town for quite some time and to my recollection we never managed to have a little chat. I know that my son has had you on the run since you arrived," Gemma said casually. "but I thought—since you were on the lot—what better time to chat than the present."

 _Well shit,_ Nico thought as she gazed into the brown determined eyes of the SAMCRO matriarch.

The last thing she wanted was to sit down and have any sort of chat with Gemma. Although it hadn't been her intention to duck the woman, Nico had wanted to be thoroughly prepared before having a conversation. A Harley biker mama who had 30-plus years under her belt as an old lady—first to Jax's Father and then to the former Club President Clay Morrow—had to be a complete ball buster.

But faced with that gimlet stare, Nico knew that she couldn't fob the woman off and that she certainly would have looked weak if she did, which she had no intention of doing.

"Sure," Nico responded. "I guess have a few minutes."

"Then follow me," the old lady responded and turning headed towards the small office off of the garage.

Squaring her shoulders, Nico followed suit.

_This is gonna be interesting._

* * *

Entering behind Gemma, Nico quickly surveyed the office, which was cramped but surprisingly tidy. It was also occupied.

Raising an eyebrow, Nico took in the balding, diminutive man sitting at the desk as he expertly shuffled through a stack of papers while wearing prosthetic hands. She had spotted him before on the lot but had never been formally introduced.

At their entrance, however, the little man leaped up to his feet with a wide grin and a courtly bow. "I just finished organizing the invoices Gem. I thought maybe I could go help out with the party."

"Sure thing Stubs," Gemma quipped and turned around. "I don't know if you've officially met the Club's counselor, Nico Torelli."

"No I haven't," Chibs grinned and extended a hand.

Nico was as smooth as a cucumber as if she was completely accustomed to shaking a plastic hand. Extending her own, she had just made contact when Gemma said, "Chucky, have you washed them hands?"

"Uh, uh, sure thing Gemma," the man stuttered.

"You know I got to check …with your situation and all."

"I accept that. Well I better bounce," and turning with brief wave Chucky left the office.

"What," Nico asked suspiciously, "was that about?"

"Let's just say that Chucky has some unusual idiosyncracies," Gemma replied archly. "But just to be on the safe side," she reached over to the desk and grabbed a bottle of _Purell_ that was sitting on the desk. "Help yourself."

Eyeing the woman carefully, Nico decided that it was probably best not to ask any questions and taking the bottle; pumped a liberal amount of the hand sanitizer before handing Gemma the bottle.

"Have a seat," Gemma invited as she sat on one end of a black and white checked couch. Taking the opposite end, Nico crossed her legs while she worked the cleanser into her hands.

Although completely unprepared for the conversation, Nico decided it was better to take the lead in the discussion and so quickly slid into interrogation mode. "So, this is a tight little set up you have here. Your business seems to be pretty popular."

"Really? I wouldn't' have thought a uptown lawyer like yourself would pay attention to a small outfit like this."

"Doesn't take much to spot," Nico replied. "Every time I've been here, it's been packed with clientele. I've got to figure that you definitely has something to do with that, and those awards up on the wall." Nico nodded towards a variety of plaques spanning a couple of decades from a variety of small business associations throughout the county. "Those seem to prove that T-M has contributed greatly to Charming. I understand that the business is owned jointly by you, your husband and Jax."

"That's right. After JT died, I shared ownership with Clay and when Jax became more invested in the business, we restructured the ownership so that he came in as a third partner."

"And you handle the running of the office, while Clay and Jax handle the automotive end," Nico concluded.

"That's right."

"I understand that T-M and the Club has a long association with the town."

"I settled down in Charming with my old man, a baby and a Club. JT and Clay started T-M soon after."

"Why Charming? It's a nice little town, but pretty out of the way," Nico probed.

"I was born and raised here. But I got tired of small town life and living with my control freak of a mother, so I packed my shit and left at 16. Fortunately I had enough sense not to come back here until long after my parents relocated." Gemma retrieved a pack of smokes from her handbag and after offering one to Nico, who politely refused, lit up.

"I guess a small town like this one had never seen anything like an MC before in this neck of the woods."

"No they hadn't and for a while they feared us, but it didn't take long for them to realize what an asset the Club was in protecting the town. Charming PD had their hands full of trying to keep the town safe from drugs, prostitution and other criminal activity. However, Wayne Unser—he was a uniform at the time—was quick to realize the benefits to having us here, and the Club worked with him to help clean up the town, get rid of a lot of quality of life shit that severely impacted the town." Gemma's smoke filled the air as she continued. "Our help eventually got Unser promoted as Chief of Charming PD."

"Which of course was a great help to the Club." Nico watched as Gemma smiled craftily.

"So in essence, the Club made Charming, well, _charming."_ Nico said with a wry grin.

"We've had our ups and downs with the town, but generally speaking, they appreciate us being here." Gemma managed to smirk as she drew in and exhaled a plume of smoke before focusing dark brown eyes on Nico. "What I'm trying to figure out is, what are _you_ really doing here?" Gemma countered.

Nico grinned at the older woman's look of determination. Apparently Gemma was tired of being on the receiving end of Nico's rapid fire series of questions and commentary, and was determined to ask a few of her own.

Well I thought it was obvious," Nico replied casually. "I'm just assisting the Club with its legitimate business interests."

"Yeah, I've heard the spiel. I'm just not sure I believe it."

Nico raised an innocent looking eyebrow. "Well, what other motive could I have?"

"That's the puzzler. I'm not sure. But this situation has certainly gotten a little murkier now that you're hooked up with Happy."

 _Well shit_ , Nico thought irritably. _She's really going to go there._ "Sounds like you have a problem with that," she said candidly.

"Hey, Hap is a grown ass man. I'm sure he can handle his own shit just fine. I just got to wonder if _you_ can handle _yours_."

"What do you mean?"

To be honest, Gemma barely knew what to make of this new situation. When Clay had come home a few nights ago with the outstanding tale of Happy ordering an associate of the Club to basically be his beck and call bitch while she was in Charming, Gemma had to wonder what was up with the normally taciturn man that was Happy Lowman. He was a patch who typically kept his own counsel and certainly was not one for declaring all manner of shit about his personal life to a room full of his brothers and a bunch of Club hang-arounds. What could this woman have in her arsenal of tricks to make Hap come out of his mouth and claim her? Already concerned with the reason behind why Nico Torelli was in Charming, this new situation only lit a fire in Gemma's belly to finally have this little meeting and to get to the bottom of why she was in town.

_Jax is hiding something from me and I don't like this shit one bit._

Gemma was too used to having her son's ear on matters, especially those pertaining to the Club, but ever since his return from Stockton Prison, she had noted a change in how he operated. She blamed the doctor bitch for that realizing that Tara's inability to be a faithful, committed old lady had developed in her son the need to keep his own counsel, which was fine as long as _she_ wasn't the one that was being left on the outside!

Now as she faced the woman in front of her, Gemma was determined to dig into the truth of this somewhat secretive relationship that Nico Torelli had with her son, but not wanting to tip her hand, she decided to use Happy as her way into getting to know this outsider.

"What I mean is can you handle someone the likes of Happy Lowman? If you think you've landed a gentleman like my son, let me disabuse you of that fallacy. Happy is all about his Club. He's a coldblooded killer, which makes his job easy for him as he has the mentality for the job. If there is one absolute, it is that the Club _always_ comes _first_. He's never had an old lady and the day he gets one, you can bury my ass six feet under. Fucking a dirty biker is all well and good and I'm sure he's giving you a good punch up your panties, or should I say thong—," Gemma derided.

"Thong," Nico said with a snarky light in her eyes.

"—but he's not the commitment type. So whatever plans you got brewing in your little lawyer brain, I'd dump them real quick. I'm not trying to be cruel, although you might think that's the case. I'm just being realistic. The last thing the Club needs is to have some beef with your uncle because you got your thong in a twist when Happy eventually kicks you to the curb. So since you're new here, I figured it would be best if I gave you a word of advice."

"And that advice would be?"

"To remember what your place while you're in town."

And what place is that?"

"For now . . . that according to Hap, your shit . . . is _his_." Gemma grinned with satisfaction as she saw the battle light in Nico's eyes and took pleasure in pressing the point home. "Now, I have to believe that the fact that an Italian princess such as yourself is still in town shows you recognize that shit. So while you are in this Clubhouse, you need to recognize and accept his authority. You may be Jimmy Cacuzza's niece, but by accepting Hap in front of his Club you've kinda renounced that shit. You are going to have to balance being a counselor for the Club and being—for all intents and purposes—Happy's old lady, but without any of the privileges that old ladies have."

"Well, this schooling in old lady culture is certainly . . . interesting," Nico replied evenly. "So just what are the perks of being an old lady?"

"There's quite a few. Protection within and outside the Club for one. Being an actual part of an organization that is bigger than yourself. Receiving the respect of everyone, including those of the Club whores who associate with the Club. And having the association of other old ladies who can help bring you along in the Club and support you. Those are the perks of being an old lady."

"Well, it seems to me like I already have those perks _without_ being an old lady," Nico shot back and grinned with satisfaction at Gemma's reaction. "I already have Hap's protection. He made that shit crystal clear to his brothers and anyone who could possibly feel the need to step out of line with me. And you might not be aware that long before Hap's little declaration, he was assigned as my personal bodyguard so I have absolutely no worries or fears from any outsider. I also feel privileged to count Marlowe and Lyla as two acquaintances that I am slowly building into a real friendship, so that's another benefit I have despite not being Hap's old lady," Nico said proudly.

"And what about the Club whores?" Gemma said slyly. "Do you have those bitches in check? Because despite Hap claiming your pussy they for sure won't recognize you as his old lady, so that means you'll be on the receiving end of shit from the whores who think they can challenge you. You might think it's no big deal as you're only going to be around for a few months, but you'd be surprised at what these bitches can get up to and what perverse joy they will take in trying to cut you down to size. Stupid whores only understand shit when they get fucked up and to be quite frank, I don't know if you in your little business suit can cut the mustard."

"Oh believe me," Nico said with confidence, "I know how to hold onto what's mine.

"That's a lot of talk. It'll be interesting to see whether you can deliver on that shit. There is one other thing, though."

"And what's that?"

"Regardless of how you may feel about it, you'll need to recognize the hierarchy in SAMCRO. As the mother of the Club's current President and former president's old lady and the woman solely responsible for bringing this Club to Charming, _I_ am the HBIC in charge. And I don't take shit from anybody, so that's something you need to remember. Fortunately for you, that role is slowly migrating to Marlowe, and I wholeheartedly approve of that, and if your smart, you'll recognize that shit and seek her counsel while you're among us, so you don't step into some shit.

"If you can deal with all of the shit that is bound to come your way, then maybe you won't cause any problems."

"Well I guess I will find out this Sunday then." At Gemma's puzzled look, Nico smiled glad to be able to know something that the all-powerful SAMCRO matriarch didn't know. "Apparently Jax has invited me to a shindig this Sunday. He's says he's going to organize a poker night and he wants me to be there."

"Oh really," Gemma said with irritation. "And just when was he going to inform my ass with only two fucking days' notice that this shit was happening?"

"Hey don't shoot the messenger," Nico replied. "Seems to me you should be used to shit like this. Men do this shit all the time, regardless of whether they are bikers or not."

Nico stood up. "Well this has certainly been an informative chat and I've learned quite a bit. But here's something I feel I should share with you," she grinned fiercely as she stared down at Gemma. "I'm nobody's bitch. So if you are inclined to spread that shit around it'd be appreciated, but if not, no worries. I don't think I'll have any problems dealing with anyone who thinks they can disrespect me. . . or what I have going on with Happy."

"So noted," Gemma murmured as Nico headed out the door.

Crossing her legs, Gemma reached out to stub out her cigarette in the astray on the small coffee table and sat back to reflect on the conversation. It would seem that Nico Torelli had no shits to give towards the fact that she had practically been branded by Happy as his woman, neither did she seem concerned with how such branding portrayed her within the Club or what the other whores who were always in competition over Happy's dick would do in retaliation of some outsider coming in and stealing what they believed was theirs.

Although Gemma was no closer in finding out just what it was that Nico was involved with her son, she had, however, gotten a read on the woman and was definitely getting the bad ass bitch who took no shit from anybody vibe. It would remain to be seen just how Nico would handle herself during her tenure in Charming.

_But if the diva has any intention of ripping my Club apart, she's going to have a serious problem._

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Sunday, May 22, 2011** _

Having decided to come in to Unser Trucking for a couple of hours to review a few files, Nico decided it was time to take a little break. It was completely quiet in the building as she was the sole occupant, but nonetheless, Nico got up to close the door to her meager office. Returning to her desk and sitting down she picked up her cell phone with a smile of anticipation. The once weekly phone conversation she made to her son Tonio was all that Nico allowed herself. It was difficult to be restrained in her contact with her son, but she was pretty damn sure that her mother kept in contact with her grandson far more frequently than she did, so Nico felt it was probably best not to overwhelm her son with a bunch of calls from nagging women. Still, the call to Switzerland was always the highlight of her day and one that she usually made during the noon hour.

Nico eagerly pressed the designated speed dial button and waited anxiously for the call to be connected. The sound of her son's voice, currently phasing between a high sounding crack and a budding tenor voice that he was desperately trying to improve on, was music to her ears.

_"Hey Mom," Tonio said cheerfully. "7:30 on the dot."_

"You know I'm a stickler for time. How's my baby—son doing?" Nico could see her son's blue eyes rolling with exaggerated irritation.

_"Everything is good Ma."_

"And school?"

_"All my classes are good, I promise. You'll love my grades. So how's life in that one horse town you're in?"_

"Don't be mean. Charming may be small, but it's a nice little town, and life—," Nico smiled as she thought about Happy, "is surprisingly damn good. In fact, I've been invited to a little poker game tonight."

_"I guess there will be a bunch of suckers losing some money then, huh?_

"That's the plan."

_"Well, I'm glad things are okay. I was just asking because the way Nonna goes on about it and the dirty bikers you work for—her words not mine—I was starting to wonder if maybe you'd lost your sanity."_

" _Che stronza!_ " Nico exclaimed. "I can't believe she's calling you to talk shit about me, and if I'm going crazy it's because she's the one who put me on the damn bus!"

_"Ma, chill out. You know how Nonna is. If she isn't ragging on something or somebody, she's not happy. I think it's only because she misses Nonno."_

_He's probably right about that shit,_ Nico thought impressed that her son despite being thousands of miles away had such an accurate read on his grandmother.

"I know you're right. It's just I wish sometimes she would just calm down."

_"She won't…not until Nonno is back home." Tonio hesitated. "How is he doing, I mean, his health? I've kind of been afraid to ask."_

Nico sighed. "I know Tonio, but not to worry. There's some good news. His application is pending but we believe that it's going to be successful. He's managing to hold his own. Your grandfather is a tough son of a bitch. He's too stubborn to—he's not going _anywhere_ ," she said fiercely.

_"That's good," Tonio said his tone relieved. "I don't want to go to another funeral this year. Dad's was enough."_

_Damn it_ , Nico felt her heart sink. It wasn't unnatural for him to feel that way. It had been a difficult decision to send him back to boarding school, not just because of her concern for his safety, but a boy having lost his father at such a difficult age to handle it on his own was too much to ask.

Suddenly, like a flash she remembered a piece of well-meaning advice:

_"You're loyal to your father and the Syndicate. I get that and I respect that, but you gotta let your kid know that his father's death is affecting you too. Otherwise, because of the love he's got for you, his grief will never feel right or natural and he'll just bottle that shit up."_

"I know you miss him," Nico said compassionately.

_"Do you?" Tonio asked. "Miss Dad, I mean?"_

Nico ran an agitated hand through her hair. "I miss the times we spent together as a family," she said quietly. "We had some pretty good times together, but I won't lie to you, Tonio. For a long time we led separate lives. We had different agendas and they eventually caused us to grow apart. But we both loved you and it's perfectly all right with me that you love him and miss him."

For a while, the line was quiet and if it weren't for the faintest sound of a sniffle, Nico would have wondered if he was still there.

_"I love you Mom."_

"I love you too, baby, and I can't wait to see you in a few weeks." Nico grabbed a Kleenex from the box on her desk and dabbed at her eyes. "Well, I don't want to keep you, so I better go, baby boy—."

_"Ma, c'mon. I thought we had a conversation about this," Tonio warned. "I'm not your 'baby boy'. I have a name," he whispered fiercely._

"What? What was that? The connection has gone bad. I can't hear you," Nico lied and swallowed a lump in her throat. "Tonio?"

_Tonio sighed deeply. "Yes Ma?"_

"You'll _always_ be my baby. Get used to that shit, 'cause it ain't ever gonna change," and snickered as her son started swearing in Italian as she hung up the phone.

Snatching up more Kleenex, Nico took a few minutes to have a quiet cry. She hated crying, but she in the end she realized that it was good to release her emotions, especially when they dealt with her concern for her son.

"Happy was right, damn him," she muttered as she blew her nose loudly. "It must be a man thing."

Tossing the used Kleenex into the trash, Nico stood up and after shutting off her computer, quickly packed her briefcase and grabbed her bag.

The time for work is over, Nico thought as she headed towards her car.

_It's time to kick a little ass Torelli style._

* * *

**Glossary** **:**

Che stronza: What a bitch!

Nonno: grandfather


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

 

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Sunday, May 22, 2011** _

"You've been stalling our asses for five days since shit blew up. Now I want all the fucking details," Marlowe ordered from her seat at the picnic table.

Looking into the smirking gray eyes, Nico realized that all bets were off. Ever since the news had gone viral that Happy Lowman had put a woman in lock down, Nico had used every excuse in the book to avoid both Marlowe and Lyla. The Cara Cara rebuild and the drafting of Otto Delaney's will had been an excellent pretext for Nico to duck out on this Friday's old lady's night—but now that she was about to enter the lion's den, there would be no justification for her keeping shit mum regarding her new status with the Club's SAA.

However, as the last thing Nico wanted was to look like she was embarrassed at how public her relationship with Happy had become, she squared her shoulders and strode forward, determined to own her shit. She would have to go through the first line of defense, the SAMCRO old ladies, but she figured that if she could get through that, she could handle the rest of the patches and hang-arounds in this relaxed setting.

When Nico stepped her designer shod feet inside the Clubhouse it would be, not as the Club's counselor, but as Happy Lowman's woman and damned if she wasn't going to own that shit and make sure all the bitches on the lot recognized it too.

Tossing her handbag on top of the picnic table and placing with care the bottle of 2013 Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon she had brought with her, Nico gracefully swung her leg over the bench of the picnic table and sat next to Marlowe. "Anybody ever tell you that you're a damn nosy bitch?" she inquired politely.

"All the fucking time," Marlowe retorted. "Right Ly?"

"Oh most definitely," Lyla agreed from across the table. "I'm nosy too, so spill it."

"Why should I?" Nico pouted. "Besides, I'm sure you heard all about it."

"Hell yes, but sometimes men forget the finite details," Marlowe replied. "I figure that between Jax and Tig I probably got most of the salient points—"

"Tig?!" Nico yelped. "Just what the fuck did he have to say?"

"Oh nothing much," Marlowe said casually. "Just that he pretty much hoodwinked Hap by deliberately busting a move on ya to get my stubborn ass brother to label your ass as his. You know, the man may be truly demented, an idiot savant of crime, but it's surprising how well Tig knows his brothers."

Nico folded her arms across her chest as she eyed her friend. "Yeah, but did he tell you how I put my foot down and got your brother to commit to fucking no other bitches while I'm in Charming?" Nico exclaimed and leveled a Cheshire grin at Marlowe's shocked expression. "I guess Tiggy didn't have those deets, huh?"

"Hap what?!" Marlowe screeched.

"You heard me heifer. And all it took was me insisting that he wasn't going to reuse the condoms I bought with the nasty heifers on the lot."

"He really _does_ reuse condoms?" Lyla was wide-eyed. "Damn! Ima wasn't lying. I thought she was pulling my leg."

Nico shuddered delicately. "There really _are_ some nasty heifers around here. Believe me, I wish it wasn't so. I can tell you that Hap never tried that shit with _me_ , but I guess the women around here are too fucking timid to shut nasty shit down."

Apparently Marlowe was still in shock. "You mean Hap really—"

"Girl, I'm telling you! The next morning he woke me up with the sounds of him washing that shit out! We had a huge argument before he finally gave in, not only to not reusing shit, but that his dick was officially mine—at least while I'm in Charming. I know that this is just a temporary gig while I'm in Charming—"

"Are you sure about that?" Marlowe interrupted.

"As sure as I can be. Why? What do you know?" Nico asked suspiciously and slightly hopeful.

Marlowe threw her hands up innocently. "I don't' know shit, except that the bikers that I've come to know and love are pretty particular about what they want and when they want it. My brother isn't the kind of man that allows himself to be pushed into a corner so—"

"So what?" Nico urged.

"So if Happy didn't want you, when Tigger pushed him he would have said that there weren't shit between you two and that any patch was welcome to hit your shit. But he didn't," Marlowe said serenely. "He instead put your ass under his protection—right up under him and declared it to every man in the place so that nobody can claim they didn't know shit either. That says a lot in my book."

"Like what? That Happy might be looking for a permanent relationship?" Lyla squeaked.

Marlowe grinned as she noted the sudden flush of Nico's cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. "I'm not saying anything," she announced airily, "except that as long as I've known him Hap has never been the kind of man to deny himself what he truly wants. It might take him a moment for him to figure that shit out, but when he does, he sticks to his decisions. I guess it's something for everyone to keep in mind is all."

"Well, I don't know all about that," Nico said carelessly, "but even if we have a tentative agreement on the table, I gotta figure that the old rule that when the cat's away the mouse will play will rear its ugly head, but I'm not going to deal with that shit unless I'm faced with it head on."

"Sounds like good plan to me," Lyla said wisely. "No need to court danger, girl."

"Puh-lease. Hap wouldn't hurt a hair on my head," Nico boasted.

"No but I'm sure he wouldn't have a problem paddling your ass some," Marlowe replied.

"I wish he would. I think that shit is kinda hot," Nico breathed at which all three women burst into laughter.

"Sounds like you girls are having fun," a voice said from the Clubhouse door and looking up, Nico saw Gemma Teller Morrow walking towards them.

"Hi Gemma," she replied cordially.

"Hello Nico," Gemma replied, her eyes quickly appraising Nico's outfit of dark wash jeans, silk button down and fitted denim jacket and finding it biker babe worthy. "So what's all the talk about?"

"Nothing much, Gem," Marlowe lied with a straight face. "Just shooting the shit."

"Well, it's nice to see that the guest of honor has arrived."

"I've been looking forward to it since Jax told me about it," Nico replied as her eyes roved around the lot which was empty of bodies but packed with cages and bikes. "I guess this function will be a little different from the normal Friday night bashes, hmm?"

"Yeah,. When it comes to poker and cash, things tend to be a little more sedate around here," Gemma smirked. "Although with the whores and skanks still here, once the games wind down I'm sure things will still get a little rowdy."

"Really?" Nico raised an eyebrow as she turned to Marlowe. "Can I assume that these bitches won't get out of line with your men while you are here?

Marlowe's grin was as fierce as a shark. "I think Ly and I have them properly schooled. Once in a while we get a bold one that might test the waters, but it just requires shutting their ass down and quickly. A wise old lady imparted a piece of sage advice which can be useful."

"And that is?"

"Sometimes you've got to educate a bitch," Marlowe replied. Nico watched as Gemma nodded approvingly at her student.

"I think I understand what you're saying," Nico grinned. "And I'll keep that shit under advisement." She turned to Gemma. "I assume you train all the new old ladies on how to handle their shit."

"I do," the matriarch agreed. "Whether or not they listen…is up to them." Gemma crossed her arms over her chest. "Tonight, should be a good night though. We haven't done this in a long time. My boys love poker and love taking their brothers' money even more. You'll see."

"Hopefully I'll do more than just see," Nico said playfully.

"That's sounds auspicious," Marlowe said as she stood up and shoved her hands into the pocket of her jeans. "You intent on playing?"

"Well I didn't come here to just sit on my ass," Nico countered. "Nothing would please me more to take some names and kick some ass."

"I think I'd like to see that. Come on girl," Marlowe invited. "Let's get the party started."

* * *

With nearly two months in Charming, Nico had come to learn much about the Sons of Anarchy. It was very different getting to know them on a personal level and it was clear that Jax Teller had a strong love for his Club and that his brothers seemed to respect him equally. Although he was trying to lead them onto a different path, it was obvious that these men were extremely strong willed and tough in nature. Their love of eating, fighting and fucking—living their lives off the social grid and as part of a completely dysfunctional family—was paramount to them and like any other group of men, regardless of whether they were Italian mobsters or outlaw bikers, they were a lot of things the two groups had in common.

It seemed that poker was definitely one of them.

Walking into the Clubhouse side by side with Marlowe, and Lyla and Gemma trailing behind them, Nico surveyed the Clubhouse with an approving eye.

For a Sunday evening the atmosphere was decidedly different in the Clubhouse, its occupants not as rambunctious as they normally were. Instead of watching the antics of the croweaters as they made use of the platform for pole dancing or carousing with the patches, the Club was filled with men and patches alike, all intent on raking in some cold, hard cash.

Tonight's event was a celebration of sorts for the Club finally making progress with rebooting the porn business and Nico felt a strong sense of satisfaction that she had made significant inroads to help Jax Teller accomplish his goal. Now as she entered the Clubhouse, Nico's eyes roved about the room noting the mix of croweaters and porn stars in attendance.

 _That combination ought to make for an interesting evening_ , Nico thought with interest. She was well aware of the purpose of croweaters, something that would never had gone over well in an Italian mob family. While the men of the Syndicate dealt with the underbelly of prostitution and had no problem using them for their own pleasure, no ranking member of the family would allow these women to associate with them and their wives at the same time. Obviously, Gemma Teller-Morrow and her band of old ladies had supreme confidence in their ability to keep control of their men—at least while they were around. She had seen firsthand how wild things could get on the lot when they weren't around, although she had never seen Jax or Opie involved with any of the Club pass-arounds.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Nico instead eyed the Clubhouse interior. It had gone through a transformation and Gemma had obviously done a very good job of revamping the Club, as it now resembled the private gaming establishments much like the ones the Syndicate ran in Nevada. There was a long table of hearty food that sat in warming pans that probably the handiwork at the old ladies—not the usual burnt-to-a-crisp fare that was typically served up courtesy of the grill at the Friday night parties.

Nico's eyes rounded with interest as she noted the large green felt covered tables that now inhabited the main room and the men—patches and hang-arounds that surrounded them and the variety of women who hung on to them. A fierce grin crossed her features as she noted one table in particular.

At the table in the center of the action sat Jax Teller, along with his two officers.

 _Happy is looking fuckin' good tonight,_ Nico thought as she eyed him eagerly _._ The outlaw was wearing is his kutte over a black t-shirt and jeans and holding a beer in his hand, his large sterling silver and gold reaper ring sat prominently on his middle finger. Reaching over to yank one of the passing prospects to give him a terse order, Happy sent him on his way, a sudden smile lighting up his features making him appear ruggedly handsome and jovial.

The three officers sat together, almost as if they were at the head of their Redwood table. With Jax in the middle and Opie on his left, Tig was next, followed by Clay and Kozik, and Happy completed the circle sitting on Jax's right.

Nico suddenly felt a little tingle in her hands and flexed them. It had been a long time since she had held a deck of cards and the thrill of playing and winning against a group of hardcore bikers was sounding like a helluva lot of fun.

_Especially if I follow it up with a few private rounds with Happy._

Nico sauntered over to the table ignoring the obvious interest in her arrival by the room's occupants as the level of noise died down briefly before it rose again. Determined to own her shit and her man—no matter how temporary it would be to some—Nico continued her beeline towards the table, leaving the old ladies behind in her haste.

"Well, damn, Happy. You never mentioned to me that the Sons ran an underground gaming den on the side," she said cheerfully as she approached the table coming to stand next to the biker and was surprised when Happy absentmindedly snaked an arm around Nico's waist. Stretching out a leg, Happy tugged her down until he settled her on his knee. Sitting on Happy's lap as it was nothing at all unusual, Nico deliberately avoided making eye contact with the smirking patches around the table as she placed her bottle of wine on the table before turning to the outlaw.

Happy gave his two cards a final look before tossing them to Kozik. "Why Tiny? You don't need to know all the shit we do."

"Nico, this shit here is just another way to expand our business," Opie quipped, his old lady coming up behind him to hand him a beer she snagged from one of the prospects before sliding her arms around his neck from behind. "And I'm about to get paid," he crowed as he flipped over the two cards that were face down in front of him and placed them above the board of five cards on the table. "Deal with that shit, Clay. A straight flush, just for my old lady."

"Aww, baby, that's so sweet," Lyla said giggling. "I could use me some new shoes."

"Well that's real nice, Ope," Clay replied affably, "and Lyla, honey, I'm just as sorry as I can be, but in honor of my Queen, I got a Royal Flush for your old man's ass," flipping over his own cards. The patches around the table howled with laughter and jeers and Opie's face dropped as the older man slapped his hands on the table.

"Come to Papa," he said to Kozik as the patch, in his role as the table's dealer, shoved the chips in his direction and Clay started to stack them neatly in front of his ever growing pile.

"Well that was sweet," Nico acknowledged. "Looks like you're having a nice run of luck," she said.

"No luck here darlin'. This is pure skill," Clay said grinning. "Right baby?"

"Well that's what I've heard time and time again, but I wouldn't know it personally," Gemma said as she handed her old man a beer.

"So I take it that playing poker isn't your poison, Gem?" Nico asked.

"Shit no. I'm more into retail therapy," the older woman quipped as she draped an arm around her old man's shoulders as she fingered several of his chips. "And something tells me I'm going to be having a whole lot of fun tomorrow, aren't I outlaw?"

"That's right baby," Clay crowed and pointed to his lips with a beefy finger and Gemma bent down and gave him a healthy buss on the lips.

"Well it seems to me like the table is a little light on female players," Nico said with a slight challenge in her tone.

"For a very good reason. This," Clay said as he picked up his cigar from an ashtray and relit it, placing it in the corner of his mouth, "is a man's game, sweetheart."

"Oh really?" Nico replied sweetly as she stretched her arm across Happy's shoulders.

"Oh there's no doubt about it doll," Tig said gleefully. Over the last couple of days the somewhat grotesque features of the outlaw's face were steadily transforming into something approaching his more roguish looks. Now that his eye was no longer swollen, Nico noted how they sparkled like bright blue marbles as he covertly checked out her assets as they filled out the sexy black button down shirt.

Sighing at Happy's damned good luck, Tig continued, "You need to have a certain amount of skill in order to do this shit. It's all about bluffing, maneuvering, strategy—you know—man shit."

"What's that I hear? Somebody talking a load of shit?" Marlowe said as she joined the group. Placing an ice cold beer on the table in front of her old man, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and grinned as she held up her own beer to her lips, flashing a wicked grin at Nico.

"Sounds like it to me," she replied. "I think I need to take offense at that shit."

"Why, Tiny?" Happy said brusquely. "Tigger's only telling the truth. I never met a bitch that could out play a man at poker."

"Oh, I think those are fighting words," she replied as she crossed her arms under her chest. "What do you think, Marley?"

"I think you're right. My brother needs to be taken down a peg or two."

"Say what? We're letting broads into the game?" Tig hollered.

"Darlin', this is a high stakes table," Clay began as he eyed Nico.

"Oh yeah?" Nico looked at Happy. "So what the fuck are you sitting at this table for? I thought your cheap ass was always on a budget."

The table howled in laughter as Happy crossed his arms over his chest. "Tiny, since I don't lose shit, it's nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about."

"Well tonight I think your luck is about to change," she taunted as she reached into her snakeskin bag. Digging into it and pulling out first a wine glass and a corkscrew, she finally reached her objective and grabbing it, pulled out a thick wad cash and turning to Clay waved it in the air.

"Listen outlaw, my pussy may be pink, but my money is _green_ and I got plenty. So what do you say, Clay? Can I get in on this shit?"

"Darlin', with a stack like that how can I possibly say no?" the older man said suavely. "After all, playing a game or two with you will give us the opportunity to know each other a little better. And I'm going to really enjoy taking all that money from ya." He lips spread into a big shit-eating grin as his brothers laughed even harder.

"Well then pull up a chair right next to me," Kozik invited. "I'll be more than happy to take some of your money too and anything else you want to throw up on the table as collateral," he said with a smile and a wink.

"Nasty," Marlowe said as she slapped the side of his head good naturedly. "I can't believe my sperm donor would say such a thing. I thought you had a little more class than Tigger."

"I do," he replied. "And you're the one who's nasty, Doc. I was talking about Nico's cage. I've never owned one myself, but I'd make an exception for Nico's ride if she puts it in the pot."

"Fuck off," Happy said irritably and reached behind him to pull a chair from another table shoving it between him and Kozik. "Sit your ass down if you're playing. If anybody is taking your money, it's gonna be me."

"Well move over, I want in on this too," Marlowe said to hr old man.

"You got your money?" Jax asked an eyebrow raised, his blue eyes sparkling with humor.

"Yes I do. I may be a little rusty—it's been a long time since I sat down with my Navy buddies—but if things go south, you can cover me until pay day," Marlowe ordered and grabbed a chair to shove it between her old man and Opie. "But I don't think that's gonna happen."

"Chucky," Clay bellowed. "Get your ass over here!"

The Club's unofficial mascot quickly skipped over and Nico had to suppress a snort of laughter. The finger-challenged man was outfitted in his rendition of a casino dealer, a white button down, a black bowtie, black slacks and a pair of old fashioned suspenders.

"You rang, sir?" he replied cheerily.

"Yeah, I did. Take these two broads money and bring them some chips," Clay ordered.

"I accept that." Bowing politely, Chucky held out a faux hand for Nico to place her stack of cash and did the same for Marlowe before trotting off to small table underneath the mug shots where V-Lin manned the bank and quickly returned with a large stack of chips for each woman.

"Thank you Chucky," Nico said with a smile as she accepted her chips. "Do you think you could get one of the prospects to open this for me and let it breathe for about 30 minutes? Then they can bring back the bottle."

"Your wish is my command," Chucky bowed before carefully retrieving the wine and corkscrew from the table and headed back to the bar.

Getting out of Happy's lap, Nico sat down and made herself comfortable and examined her chips. Setting them out evenly in front of her, Nico proceeded to stretch and crack the knuckles in her hands to warm them up. "I guess I should ask you Clay not to get all riled up after I'm done taking all your money. Just saying there's no need to get all twisted."

"That's a lot of trash talk for a little girl who doesn't even have any cards in her hand yet," Clay snarked.

Nico flashed a wicked smile at him. "Oh, I don't trash talk. I never need to. I guess everyone here has forgotten that the Torelli's own a casino or two."

"Owning a casino has shit to do with actually playing cards," Tig said, siding with his former president. "There ain't no slot machines or roulette wheels up in this joint."

"No there's not," she replied glibly. "Those games are for suckers, which is why I never play them." Picking up a deck of cards that sat in front of Kozik, Nico's eyes never left Tig's as she started to shuffle the cards.

"Oh shit," Opie murmured, as the woman's wrists turned and flashed easily as she maneuvered the cards shuffling them expertly.

"So you can shuffle a deck," Tig said huffily. "That don't mean shit."

"I guess we'll see, then."

Suddenly, a strand of a conversation at the back of Happy's mind rose to the surface.

" _Well look who's come to try and take all my money. Again. I guess it's a good thing the Sheriff is out of town with his wife on vacation. He sure was put out the last time you were here and took all his money, although I think he was more upset that you wouldn't sleep with him."_

Happy slowly stroked his chin in speculation as he eyed Tiny as the words of his brother Jury White faded away.

_Something tells me that my brothers may be in for a world of hurt tonight._

* * *

_**Three hours later** _

As three smoke rings rose towards the ceiling, Happy watched as the petite woman by his side tapped the ash from the cigar she held between her fingers, her left elbow resting on the box of Cohiba cigars she had won on the last round and her right hand holding a glass of the premium wine she had brought with her.

_Shit, Tiny wasn't lying when she said she was good._

The crowd around the table had grown steadily larger as the night progressed and the number of players had dwindled, risen and then dwindled again to the two remaining players.

Two sets of calculating blue eyes stared at each other across the table. When it came to poker, Happy had a hard fast rule: when you start losing, pull the fuck out and after seeing Tiny in action, Happy figured there was no shame in leaving the game with his pockets still full of cash.

Surprisingly, having two women at the table was enjoyable. Neither woman came in like gangbusters, carefully biding their time to strike.

And strike they did.

It was in the fourth game that Nico made her move. The pot had grown to nearly $500 by the time the fourth bet had been placed. With Jax, Opie, Marlowe, Tig and himself passing on the bet, it was Clay and Nico that were facing off.

"So," Clay drawled, "what's it gonna be, girlie? I think you should face the inevitable and just fold now why you still can."

"Well that's a lot of talk, old man," she shot back with a grin. "What you gonna do?"

"This is what I'm gonna do," he replied, tossing down a $50 chip. "And I gonna raise this shit," and tossed two more." He grinned wide showing all 32 of his teeth. "Put up or shut up, sweetheart, and since I've never met a broad that knew when or how to do either…," he shrugged his shoulders as his brothers burst out laughing, "I'm pretty sure this hand is mine."

Nico took a delicate sip of wine before putting it down on the table. "All right," she said. "Let's do this shit." She tossed in the bet and the raise on top of the pile of chips. "Show your cards, player," she invited boldly.

Clay grinned as he nudged Tig with his elbow. "Watch and learn, brother," he said as everyone eyed the assortment of five cards on the table. Flipping over his two cards, he edged them towards the three cards of his choice to complete his hand, grinning as Jax reached over to slap him on the back and their brothers roared their approval. "King and Queen of hearts, honey, which means I got me two pair." Clay grinned as he watched Nico bit her lip.

"Aw shit," she muttered. "That's pretty damn good."

"I told you to pull out," Happy said arrogantly. "You should have listened to me."

"I guess I could have Hap, but why should I when I have Ace and a Queen of Spades," she suddenly grinned and flipped over her cards. As silence suddenly filled the table, Nico quickly rearranged the cards. "Especially since I have a Royal Flush. I'm so sorry, Clay, but I afraid it's time to pay your taxes to the Queen!" she crowed as Marlowe and Lyla and a surprising number of croweaters started squealing in excitement at one of their own soundly beating a patch.

"Well, shit," Clay grumbled as Kozik shoved over Nico's winnings. "That was just dumb luck."

"Oh, yeah?" Nico countered as she gathered up her chips. "It's on now, old man."

The game had continued pretty hot and heavy after that with both Nico and Clay steadily acquiring chips and constantly ribbing each other. It was about the tenth hand after Nico's first win that she eyed Clay's cigar and made him a proposition that the older man wouldn't back down from. Cohiba cigars are made with only the highest grade Cuban tobacco. They were a big favorite of the biker, and a very difficult item to acquire in the U.S., and Nico was able to goad Clay to have Ratboy pull out his stash from behind the bar and put it into the pile against Nico's diamond stud earrings.

Which he promptly lost.

Now in this final round, all the suckers had been cleared out and with both of them facing off, Happy wasn't sure who was actually going to come out the victor. He watched as Nico contemplated her next move.

"I tell you what, not only will I meet your bet," Nico said as she tossed in five $100 chips, "I'll raise it," and tossed another five chips down. "Maybe that will give you a little more incentive to put your money where your mouth is," Nico snarked.

"Little girl, you're pushing it," was Clay's tart reply.

"I know. My mother hates when I do that shit, but sometimes I never let shit be. You understand that, don't you?"

"Hells yeah," Clay grinned as he took a final look at his cards face down before meeting the raise and tossed his chips into the pot.

"Ready?"

"Go for it." Nico watched as Clay slowly turned over the cards to reveal an Ace and King which sat glittering in the light over the table as he laid his cards next to hand on the board.

Nico casually picked up her cigar and took another draw before blowing another smoke ring into the silence. Picking up her two cards she looked at them and then sighing tossed them face down on the table. "Shit!" she muttered.

The crowd went wild as they slapped Clay on the back congratulating him on his win.

Nico leaned back in her chair and stretched her arm over her head to work out the kinks. "Well I guess you got me tonight outlaw, but you have to admit. I gave your ass a run for your money." She picked up the box of cigars and handed them to Clay. "With my compliments."

"You may be a broad, Nico, but I will admit, you're a damn good player," Clay said quietly, taking the cigars with one hand and offering his hand with the other, which she shook.

Everyone was so busy congratulating Clay that no one noticed as Happy casually picked up Nico's discarded cards, looked at them and then promptly slid them into the dealer's stack that Kozik left on the table.

* * *

"Well despite you losing, you still showed them," Marlowe crowed.

"You did pretty good too, girl," Nico shrugged. "We'll get 'em next time."

Clay's big win had sparked a renewed poker playing fervor and several new games had started. Having drunk nearly an entire bottle of wine by herself, Nico was feeling the effects and wanted some coffee to clear her head, so the women retreated to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot.

After filling their mugs, as Nico and Marlowe headed towards the main room, they found Lyla blocking their path. "Uh, why don't we just stay in here? We don't need to sit down," she said hurriedly.

"Ly," Marlowe asked suspiciously. "What the fuck's going on?"

"I may not know shit about poker, but apparently a couple of the whores out there are in a betting mood," Gemma said from her position close to the door as she avidly observed the view. "Looks like Ima and one of her porn bitch friends are trying to bust a move."

Nico started to laugh, but then frowned. "Ima? As in Lyla's ex-coworker? The one who knows Happy's cock size? And who the fuck is she trying to 'bust a move' with?" she said ominously as she put down her coffee mug with a sharp bang on the counter. It became abundantly clear who was on the receiving end as Nico looked into Gemma's eyes that were glittering with repressed mirth.

"Oh shit," Marlowe said as she made a move to grab Nico's arm.

And missed.

Lyla suddenly found herself shoved to the side as Nico stalked through the door. "Oh double shit," she gasped and taking off at a fast sprint, was followed by Marlowe and a cackling Gemma.

"This shit ain't funny Gem," the Club's medic threw over her shoulder. "I don't have my fuckin' med kit."

"Yes it is," Gemma crowed. "Especially if Ima hands the counselor her ass."

The three women watched as Nico came to an abrupt halt by the seating area and spotted Happy relaxing comfortably in one of the armchairs, but he wasn't alone. Leaning against the arm rest with her arm draped around Happy's shoulders, was a young blond porn star.

With her stormy blue eyes lighting on Ima's own, Nico immediate realized who the girl was—the little idiot who had had the gall to publicly wonder how and why Happy had ended up with the "spinster" he had carried off to his dorm.

The porn star wasn't alone however, as another girl accompanied her, a young red-haired girl that barely looked legal sitting on the opposite side of Happy's chair. It was when she met Happy's eyes that were smirking at her mischievously, that Nico pulled herself to her senses.

 _Huh. So Hap is trying to jerk my ass around for me to put on another show for his brothers,_ Nico thought with irritation. _Well he's gonna get one all right. Torelli style._

* * *

Happy knew that it was entirely possible that he was taking his life into his hands with this play, but after being exposed to the fiery temper that was Tiny, he figured that it was best to find out exactly how far he could push the envelope with the feisty woman.

It was a pretty good indication seeing her storm over that she was truly pissed. Although he had basically agreed to Tiny's demands that he wouldn't fuck other women, Happy figured it was best to test her resolve on the issue just to see how serious she really was. He had to admit that the leader of the two bitches was a little bit of a bad ass to push up on him. He had fucked her once or twice before, but for the life of him he couldn't remember the bitch's name. Although Tiny didn't have a crow, anybody who had been around knew that he had a woman—of sorts. To try and move in on him while Tiny was _in_ the Clubhouse was pretty ballsy. Stupid, but definitely ballsy.

"So I see you have some new friends, Hap. You wanna introduce me?" Nico said sarcastically, her arms folded over her chest as she stared him down.

Happy shrugged his shoulders. "Tiny, I don't' know these bitches names."

"Uh, it's Ima," the blond pouted. "It's a very distinctive name."

"Like he gives a fuck," Nico retorted cynically. "You might as well be Thing 1 and your friend there is Thing 2."

"Look, there's no need to get pissy. We're all about sharing here," Ima said. "Don't be a Snooty Bitch. You've had Happy all evening, so now it's our turn."

"So that's how you do shit here? All the Club women take turns with Happy here?"

"That's right. You'll get used to it, sweetie. All the croweaters and porn stars do."

Nico cocked her head to the side. _Oh, this little bitch_ _must_ _be mental._

"Oh shit," Marlowe muttered to Lyla who was trying to catch her friend's eye with numerous shaking of her head, all to no avail. "Ima is about to die. And she was actually growing on my ass, too"

"Let me get this straight," Nico said sweetly. "Somehow you've got it into your little brain that you and I are on the same playing field?"

Ima's tone was confident as she eyed her opponent. When Nico had entered the Clubhouse, Ima had spent a few minutes evaluating the woman and realized that the woman was packing with a serious arsenal. Good looks and a perfect body that was finally showcased in something other than the boring business suits that she had seen her wearing on the rare occasions she was on the lot were enough of a reason for any patch to want to fuck her. It also didn't hurt that everything she had on were top of the line designer duds.

But Ima knew all the old ladies that hung around the Club, even the visiting ones from other charters, and although Happy had made it clear that this woman's pussy was his alone, she knew plenty of bikers like him and no pussy was off limits to _him_. So Ima straightened up from her position on the armchair as she made her point. "Yeah, I do," She rolled her eyes. "You're not his old lady, so Hap's dick is free and clear and can go where ever it wants," she announced as if she was instructing a newcomer on the proper Club etiquette—the correct pecking order of the whores on the lot—of which to Ima's mind, Nico was now part of the group.

Nico looked at askance at Happy, who hadn't contributed another word to the conversation. "Do you have anything to say before I handle this shit?"

"Tiny, you can handle it any way you see fit," he replied as he leaned back in chair. _Now the shit is about to get seriously twisted_ , he thought.

At that, Nico walked over to stand next to his chair and reaching up, used the tip of her index finger and thumb to snag Ima's chin and attention. Bending down ever so slightly, Nico bore holes into the girl. "I'm going to make an exception for you, seeing as it's obvious that you don't know who I am or what I'm capable of," Nico said in a whisper. "After all, it would be unfair of me not to at least give you one warning before I jack your shit up. You see, I have absolutely no problem making your ass and your friend there, completely fucking disappear.

"Now before you ask the stupid question as to how I could make this possible, I'll answer it for you. I'm fucking Italian and we know how to do that shit. I will 'Adriana' your ass without batting a fucking eyelash—you and any other bitch in this Clubhouse who thinks she can disrespect me, without breaking a sweat or putting a hair out of place. I have no problem replacing those fake ass Loubatins you're wearing with cement shoes."

Noting the sudden look of apprehension on Ima's face, it was Nico's intention to make a few more threats to drive the point home before dismissing her, but a voice suddenly intruded.

"Are you starting some shit over there, Ima?" Jax's voice suddenly echoed across the room. "Do I need to get involved?"

Nico watched as the woman suddenly leapt to her feet. "No, Jax, no shit starting here," she yelped. "I'm apologizing right now." Quickly shoving herself away from Happy, she stood up to face Nico. "My mistake. I guess I assumed you were one of us. I guess should have known better, especially since I saw you hanging out with that one," Ima nodded at Marlowe. "I'm not trying to get banned, and I like being alive, so this shit won't happen again." Turning to her companion, Ima made a hurrying motion. "Come on Jenna. Let's go hang out with Chibs."

"Yeah, sure thing," the younger girl agreed, abandoning Happy to run behind her gal pal.

Nico crossed her arms over her chest and turned to eye the Club President as he sauntered forward. "Thanks for the assist Jax, but I had shit covered."

"Just making sure, Nico," he replied with a grin. "I wouldn't want my brother's . . . _girlfriend_ to have any issues here," and winked at her before wrapping an arm around his old lady's waist.

"Yo Prez." Happy bristled at his brother's pointed dig, but refused to address it. "How come you stuck your nose in my shit? I was hoping to see Tiny here give that gash a good beat down. I'd like to know that she can handle her shit."

Nico smirked. "Player, haven't you heard? A true mafia princess doesn't break her nails on some dumb bitch. She gets a couple of _paisans_ and outsources that shit. So I'm afraid you'll never see me slap down some bitch over your ass."

"Why not?" Happy was almost pouting, causing his sister to chuckle wryly.

"Because Rosanna Torelli raised a fuckin' _lady_ , that's why," Nico retorted. "Now that the show is over, I think it's time for me to get home. Since I polished off a lot of wine and I'm feeling rather mellow, I don't believe I'm fit to get behind the wheel, so you gonna give me a ride Killer?"

"In more ways than one," Happy promised. "Go on. Get your shit."

As Nico went to grab her handbag, Marlowe sidled up next to him.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll watch your back with that one otherwise Ima won't be the only one sleeping with the fishes."

* * *

The door had barely slammed shut behind Happy when Nico cut loose on him, tossing her bag on the couch before spinning around to face him.

"So you really like playing with fire, don't you Killer?"

"What you talking about?" Happy all but smirked as he eyed his woman.

"What am _I_ talking about?" Nico sputtered. "I'm talking about letting those two bitches down at the Clubhouse paw all over you."

Happy shrugged. "I can't help that shit," he said arrogantly, doing everything he could not to bust out laughing at her affronted gaze.

"Oh I know you can help that shit. You just wanted to put me in place, but you didn't get what you wanted did you outlaw? Now all the bitches know that your dick belongs to me…otherwise their going to end up sleeping with the damn fishes."

Happy grunted before pulling Nico towards him and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You know that was some sexy shit, Tiny."

"Oh yeah," she muttered as Happy nuzzled her neck. "Never mind what I told them bitches. Don't get used to that shit, Hap. I only say shit one time. Next time I'll start swinging and let me warn ya, I don't clean up blood."

Pulling back, Happy looked into her eyes. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one here who's got a fucking bone to pick, so I guess I can table that shit for now."

"So what did I do now?" she muttered and eyed the outlaw uneasily as his suddenly soft gazed turned stern and menacing.

"Tiny, you had 2 fuckin' Aces!" he almost bellowed.

Nico blinked. "I know what I had," she countered. "What I'd like to know is how _you_ know what I had."

"I took a look after you chucked your cards." Happy said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You had Clay by his short and curlies, so why didn't you clean him out?"

Nico sighed before slumping down on the couch to remove her boots. "I didn't see the need. Look, don't get me wrong. I wasn't trying to curry favor with him by letting him win. It's just that sometimes you outlaws need to realize that just because I have breasts and a vagina that it doesn't mean that I'm not a fully capable adult despite being a woman. Now granted, I'm know that I'm not as highly regarded among the Club as your sister—the woman is totally kick ass—but I can hold my own and I needed to show that to Clay. He's been a real hard case since I arrived in Charming with my efforts to help Jax and you with the other businesses. I needed to prove to him that I have skills outside the corporate world that are useful—brains and the smarts necessary to handle my shit regardless of the playing field. I proved everything I needed to when I beat Clay and everyone else at the table _all night long_. I figured that there was no need to make a huge point of it by ramming that fact down his throat by wiping him out. Now he knows who I am and I know who he is." Nico grinned. "Next time, however, all bets are off. I'm dusting his ass and yours too."

Happy shook his head wryly. _This fucking woman is amazing_ , he thought to himself. Happy stalked over to the sofa.

"Shit, I'm going to dust that ass of yours right now," Happy growled as he bent over to pick her up and grinned as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Is that right, outlaw?"

"Damn right," he replied as he headed off to the bedroom.

 _Tiny may have her faults_ , Happy thought, _but she sure as shit knows how to read my brothers_. It was a little disturbing to him as he realized just how well she was coming to know him.

And he wasn't quite sure if he liked that shit.

* * *

Despite the evening's entertainment, the atmosphere of the Morrow bedroom was tense.

Sitting at the edge of their bed, Clay Morrow had been silent as his wife puttered around the room as she put the finishing touches on her nightly beauty regimen. Finally saying goodnight to Clay—her white cockatoo—Gemma put the drop cover over the bird and turned to face him. Although her makeup had been removed, despite her age Gemma was still a good looking woman. Wearing nothing but a long black silk robe, she walked over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck, started to massage his shoulders.

"It was a long night baby, but a good one I think. My son was right. Having poker night was a good way for everyone to unwind," Gemma grinned. "And you made a nice pile. Thanks, by the way. I'm going to have some fun at that sample sale in Stockton tomorrow," she quipped, hoping for a wisecrack from her old man about her spending habits.

None came.

"You're son is determined to unwind us all right, but if he's not careful he's going to fracture this Club and that's something that once done, can't be undone," Clay said his tone serious.

 _Oh shit_ , Gemma thought as she looked into steel blue eyes. _My old man is on a tear._

"So what bee has crawled up your ass, babe?" she asked.

"Nico Torelli."

"What about her Clay? She's harmless," Gemma said casually, with her heart thumping in her chest. "You're just not feeling her because she nearly whipped your ass in poker is all," she joked hoping to jolly him out of his ill temper.

It didn't work.

"Nico Torelli may be able to kick ass in poker and be as tough as nails, and if she was simply some pass-around hanging off of Happy's jock, I wouldn't give a shit. But she's not. I don't like her being here."

"You mean, you don't like what she's doing for the Club," Gemma said wisely. Sitting down next to her husband she thought carefully about her next words before she spoke. "You're concerned about what she and Jax are doing for the Club and how that's going to affect us, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?" Clay shot back as he stood up to pace the room. "If you aren't maybe you should be. You're my old lady and I need your support."

"And you have it, Clay. You always have and you always will." Gemma sighed. "Look, I've spoken to Nico, tried to feel her out to see what plans with Jax are, but it's a slow process babe. If I go all gangbusters, she's not going to be forthcoming."

"And that's a real problem, Gem." Clay sighed. "Have you tried with Jax?" He watched as his old lady slowly shook her head.

"Jax has been keeping his own counsel, babe. Now don't jump up my ass—I'm not saying that I'm giving up completely—but on some levels, I can't say that what Jax is doing for the Club is so bad," Gemma countered. "Baby, I'm thinking that maybe his concern is about the safety of his brothers. I can't say that's a bad thing."

"It is when his decisions impact our business."

Gemma stood up to face her husband, wrapping her arms around his waist. "From everything you tell me, the business is fine. You've been running guns for the Cartel for a year and you've been raking in the money, all the while Roosevelt and his sheriffs have been clueless. I'm not sure how having some additional legitimate business can hurt us," Gemma sighed. "Maybe it makes me feel safer."

"Safer? How?" Clay practically sputtered.

"Because the more the Club is working on that shit, the less likely it will be that my old man will get picked up and end up spending the rest of his life as a three-time loser in Stockton Prison." Gemma stalked away angrily to gather herself together. "Remember what I told you, Clay," she said quietly. "I can't go through you being in jail again, and the next felony you get for illegal gun running will be your third strike. I wanna grow old with you; not see you die in prison. Nor do I want my son to be sharing a cell with his father, unable to raise his own son. I want _you_ to be safe, Clay. I want _us_ to be safe," she implored. The pleading in her voice was so totally unlike the strong woman he knew and although her feelings mattered to him, Clay felt there was more at stake.

"I get that baby, that's why I am concerned. I want the Club to be safe too, but I'm not so sure that it will be in Jackson's hands," Clay said into the silence.

"What are you saying, Clay? You want to strip our son of his patch so you can be back at the head of the table?" Gemma said aghast.

"It's not a matter of want as maybe a matter of need. I agree with you baby that we need to be safe, but there's being safe from the law, and safe from the Irish, and I'd rather deal with the law than deal with the likes of Galen O'Shay."

Gemma felt her head spinning at the implications of her old man's statements. "I thought you and him are close," she managed to say.

"We're as close as two old men who have their own distinct agendas can be. We each have people we have to protect, a cause bigger than ourselves. Galen is not a man to fuck around with. He's not a man to be denied what he wants and since he has the full backing of the Irish Kings, the only thing I'm concerned about is protecting the relationship the Sons have with the Irish. We can't afford to damage that bond. I don't want shit to go sideways because Jax is so damn busy being a fucking entrepreneur that he's not thinking shit through in the long term.

"That's why I need you to keep focused on the task at hand, see what you can find out about just how far our son is willing to go for this MC Utopia he's trying to build and what Nico Torelli is doing to help him achieve it that we don't know about. I've been going over this shit in my head ever since she landed in town and there's only one outcome that makes any sense and fits Jax's strategy."

"Which is?" Gemma asked.

"I think Jax wants to end the guns…for good."

The silence of the room permeated.

"That's a pretty big leap," Gemma managed to say without a tremor in her voice. "Why do you think that?"

It's all these moves that he's made—evicting me out of my seat for a start—"

"What are you talking about?" Gemma said with surprise.

"Gem, I didn't exactly 'volunteer' to give up my flash," Clay said quietly. "Our son maneuvered me out," he said with a mix of exasperation and pride in his voice.

For a moment, Gemma didn't know what to say.

 _My son is a total bad ass_!

Tamping down her feelings of pride about her son's accomplishment, Gemma moved quickly to soothe her old man's hurt feelings. "I can't believe that he could get one over on you," Gemma lied convincingly. "However things went down, I'm sure that whatever he did, Jax thought that he was doing it in the Club's best interest."

"Believe me babe, he knew exactly what he was doing and he had me by my short and curlies. It was a slick move," Clay managed to grin. "But now with all the shit he's been putting into play—first with Unser Trucking, then the porn business—it's like he's building all this shit up because he knows that soon he's going to cut ties with the Irish. And that's something he can't be allowed to do." His tone brooked no argument.

"You're not going to get an argument from me here, but for a moment, let's just think about this," Gemma said slowly. "To play devil's advocate, would it really be that much of a problem for us to get out of gun running?"

"Ending our business with the Irish has the potential to kill this Club." Clay was adamant. "It can't be allowed to happen."

Gemma moistened her dry lips. "And if it turns out that you're right, then what?"

"Then we have to stop him," Clay said evenly.

"By any means necessary."

* * *

**Glossary**

**paisans:** brothers or fellow countrymen


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

 

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Wednesday, June 1, 2011** _

Sitting in the conference room of Unser Trucking, Nico examined one final time the documentation that she had developed for Jax Teller's next big project before his arrival. The two of them had spent several weeks brainstorming to finalize the Request for Proposal for the maintenance contracts for Charming Heights. While completing the RFP was a mere formality as Hale had guaranteed to award the contract to T-M, honoring the arrangement he had made with Jax, Nico wanted to make sure from a legal standpoint that T-M was fully protected going into the new venture. In addition to finalizing the proposal, Nico and Jax had spent a great deal of time strategizing how the new business would move forward, reviewing the specifications for the purchase for the empty lot next to T-M to expand the business and considering the feasibility of not only building the new bays but giving the old ones a makeover to make them uniform.

It was an interesting experience watching Jax's growing excitement as they meticulously planned the expansion of the auto business and it was no surprise to Nico that the biker truly had a head for business. Although Jax had no college education, it was clear that he was book smart, and his street smarts combined with his intellect was a powerful weapon. It was compelling to see how he used both to make inroads into transforming his Club from that of a strictly criminal enterprise to a business-oriented organization.

What irritated Nico to no end, however, was how little Jax seemed to think of his abilities, often referring to himself as nothing more than a mediocre mechanic with a G.E.D. when he was so much more than that. His brilliance at being an outlaw simply needed to be rechanneled into something positive that wouldn't land him or his brothers in prison as a bunch of three-time losers, and it was clearly apparent to Nico that Jax truly would be able to accomplish his goal of turning the Club legit.

 _But despite all of the new legit shit, Jax is still all about his Club_ , Nico thought with some amusement. Just that morning he had called her to bounce off a new idea. With the anticipated purchase and renovation of the porn studio and the revamping of T-M, Jax was seriously considering proposing to his brothers when the time was right an extreme makeover of the Clubhouse as well and to Nico's mind, the building desperately needed it. It would also certainly show his brothers that he was concerned about them and as the mother charter a renovated Clubhouse would definitely send a message to all of the charters that SAMCRO was at its heart, a brotherhood.

While Clay Morrow had no doubt that Charming Heights would be the ruination of the Club, Jax realized that it was poised to bring a lot of new business and economic growth to Charming, and the increase in population could literally usher in a new era of prosperity to the small NorCal town.

Nico picked up and leafed through the 300-page prospectus on the development that Jacob Hale had given her to recheck a minor point. If the plans were anything to go by, the mayor's vision of a utopia for the upper middle-class and the nouveau riche would be extremely appealing. With nearly three dozen pre-sold homes, the development would break ground in the fall.

The designs of the homes—some of them simple, but attractive family homes, but others on the scale of large mansions—were impressive, even by Nico's own standards.

 _Damn,_ _I wouldn't mind getting my hands on one of those lots myself. Too bad nothing is under construction yet, so I could move out of the dump I'm in._

Charming Heights was a great opportunity, not only for the Sons with the award of the development's maintenance contract, but for Torelli Construction & Supply. While Nico worked on the Sons' proposal, a team from TCS was diligently working on its proposal to provide additional construction labor and supplies for the development and would submit it to Jacob Hale in a few weeks' time.

With her head bent down over her work, Nico was completely unaware that she was being watched until a slight tap on the open door startled her and looking up, she grinned.

"Hey," she said, glancing down at her watch. "You're early."

"I guess I'm a little excited," Jax said as he swaggered in, closing the door behind him and taking a seat next to Nico. "I didn't sleep a wink last night. I don't fucking know why," he admitted sheepishly.

"Maybe because it's not every day that you get in bed with someone the likes of Jacob Hale." Nico placed a hand on his arm. "You know there's no need to worry, right? I got your back on this."

Jax stroked his chin in thought. "I know you do, and I know that there's no real reason for me to be nervous. Hale isn't a stupid man. He knows if he crosses me on our deal that there would be hell to pay. But I've learned a thing or two from Clay. Old white money is the most powerful Club in the world. I've been an outlaw for all of my adult life, so it's a little strange knowing that I'm deliberately aligning myself with him, but if it gets me and the Club to my end goal, then I gotta do this."

"Speaking of your stepfather, are you sure you want to go ahead and submit this without his knowledge?" Nico tapped the proposal that sat in an attractive binder that Lyla had created.

"I've got to take small steps with my stepfather, Nico. He's not a man who is all about change."

"That may be true, but keeping this too close to your kutte could also have the opposite effect," Nico warned. "A man backed into a corner tends to come out swinging."

"Believe me, I hear what you're saying, but if there is one thing I've learned from the patch whose tried to mold me into his image for the last 16 years is that you should never telegraph your next jab," Jax smiled. "If I give Clay an inkling that I'm looking to expand our auto business too soon, he'll do what he can to sabotage it, despite all the benefits of the increased business."

"Well, you know him best. At the very least, you'll need to be prepared to handle the fall out if and when it happens."

"Oh I will. You can guarantee that."

"Good." Nico picked up a pen. "Then let me take you through this one final time before you put your John Hancock on this shit, after which, we can get ready for our next meeting, as I'm sure it's gonna be a doozy."

* * *

Pulling her Beamer into the lot, Ima parked her car and grabbing her handbag, slammed the door shut and bit her lip nervously as she looked around the unremarkable building.

_Shit, I sure hope I'm not going to die here. Especially in this dump. Lyla should have warned me that she worked in a shithole._

The last place Ima Tite wanted to be was at Unser Trucking but when the SAMCRO President orders you to bring your ass to a meet, there's no ducking out. After her very recent and close brush with death after attempting to push up on the Club's SAA, Ima realized that she liked being a live bitch than a dead one. After making her escape, Ima had decided to keep a low profile around the Clubhouse hoping to eventually get off the Club's shit list, but then Jax Teller had called and now she was sure she was in for it.

Ima tried to convince herself that it was unlikely that Jax would try to get rid of her over what was a minor infraction as technically this Nico chick wasn't an old lady. Ima vividly recalled the last time she had lost her shit and pulled a gun on Jax Teller's mother and his former old lady and how she ended up with a busted face, courtesy of the SAMCRO Prez for her trouble. It was only because she had rendered some assistance to Lyla and had a starring role in a very weird photo shoot that she had been allowed back into the Club's good graces.

 _And I nearly fucked that shit up,_ Ima thought as she headed up the porch steps. _Well, whatever is going on now, I better watch my p's and q's._

 _But remember; don't let anyone know your shit scared. You're Ima Tite. You can handle your shit_ , she admonished to herself as she opened the door.

 _You got this_!

* * *

"Come in, shut the door and sit down," Jax ordered to Ima who stood frozen in the doorway and watched how she eyed apprehensively the woman sitting on his right. He smirked as Ima hurried to do his bidding and noted how the porn star took the seat farthest away from his counselor.

_I guess she's still running scared._

"So I think you've already met Nico," Jax said with a smile, "although not in the capacity as the Club's lawyer." He watched as Ima eyed her adversary from across the table.

"Um, yeah," Ima said her unease apparent, but Jax watched as she straightened up in her chair and assumed a belligerent expression. "So, am I in trouble here?"

"You could be. Do you want to be?" Nico asked briskly.

Ima hesitated. _Don't fuck with this bitch. Obviously, the woman has some power as well as Jax Teller's respect._ "No," she replied slowly. "I'd just prefer to keep breathing."

"No one's threatening you," Nico continued. With Jax staying silent, it was obvious that the Club's Counselor was running the show. "In fact, we want to help you."

"Help me?" Ima said disbelievingly.

"In a manner of speaking," Nico said crisply. "And if you accept, you'll help the Club too."

Ima sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. "Okay, so what who do I got to do?" she asked as she glanced over to Jax. "I guess I'll be paying for what happened to Lyla until I'm old and withered."

"However your body ends up—whether it's old and withered or old and tight, courtesy of plastic surgery and Botox—is totally up to you. Jax is offering you an opportunity to do something more with your life than just lay on your back—or is that all you hope to achieve in your lifetime?"

Ima folded her arms over her chest. "What do you have in mind, exactly?"

"SAMCRO is rebooting Cara Cara and we'd like you to come back on board as an actress. However, there is a bigger opportunity available to you—learning how to work behind the scenes as a producer. That is, if that's something that interests you," Nico said wryly as she noted the look of shock on Ima's face. "Acting isn't necessarily an easy gig, but it takes real skill, determination and a modicum of intelligence to run shit behind the scenes. You were the Cara Cara It Girl before the company folded. You can be it again, or you can strive for something a little more upscale."

Ima swallowed hard and moistened her suddenly dry lips. "Why me?" she asked quietly.

"Because you stepped up," Jax said finally entering the conversation. "Yeah, you might have played a part in what went down with Lyla, but you didn't leave her hanging. I didn't initially appreciate that shit, but my old lady had a way of convincing me otherwise. You didn't give me any shit either when I asked for your assistance a couple of months back. You keeping that shit under your hat proved that you have some sense, and what you did helped the Club significantly."

"It did?" Ima's tone was incredulous.

"Yeah. For the most part you've remembered to stay in your place—well, with the exception of that shit with Nico here—"

"And I totally apologized for that shit," Ima said eagerly turning to Nico. "I'll do it again, if I need to," she babbled. "Shit, if you're into girls, I can make it up to you . . . or maybe not," she said hastily as Nico's smirk turned into a frown. "Honestly, I—"

"Okay, save it already," Nico replied as she rolled her eyes at Jax whose shoulders started to shake with laughter. She sighed and bit back a smile. "I guess I can see that this job offer sounds interesting to you, huh?"

"Yeah. I mean yes, it does."

"Well, it won't be an easy job," Nico cautioned. "You'd still be one of the talent, but you'll have a lot of responsibilities, administrative-wise that's going to require a lot of your time—working with the crew, casting, recruiting, just to name a few. Your first challenge initially will be tracking down some of Cara Cara's talent who've moved onto other studios and convincing them to come back. While Jax wants to increase our roster with new talent, Cara Cara is going to need experienced talent—actors and actresses who know the ropes so that we can quickly produce some new flicks. I've started to reach out to former directors and producers and once they're on board, you will be the Club's liaison between them and the staff. You'll be working primarily with Bobby and Chibs as they'll be running point on the studio for the Club." Nico paused for a beat. "So how does that sound?"

"It—it sounds great," Ima's smile was beaming. "Um, will I get paid, for producing, I mean."

"It comes with a yearly salary," Nico named a sum which had Ima grimacing. "It's not a lot to start, but you'll have to prove yourself and after a six month probationary period, you'll get a nice sized bump . . . and after a two-year period if you continue to do well, you'll earn a share of the profits. A very small share," Nico warned as Ima squealed, "but a profit nonetheless, which is something that none of your co-workers will have."

"It's not going to be a ride in the park, Ima," Jax cautioned. "You're going to have to be able to draw a line between your friendships and your job. If the reboot is successful, down the road, you may want to stop being in front of the cameras completely, and make the transition into a full-fledged director like Luann. Is that something you want?"

 _To be the one calling the shots? Hell yeah!_ "Yes. I want it."

"Then let's talk logistics," Nico said.

* * *

Pulling in front of the medium-sized red brick building that was the headquarters of Hale Development Corporation, Nico parked her car in a parking spot and grabbing her handbag and T-M's proposal, exited the car.

It was her final stop for the day and afterwards Nico looked forward to going home to put her feet up for a couple of hours. It would be enough time for her to wind down before preparing a nice meal for her and Happy.

Over the last couple of weeks, the pair of them had fallen into a routine, one that seem very advantageous to both of them as Happy was spending the bulk of his free time with her. Their typical evening consisted of her getting together a meal for dinner, although a couple of times Happy had taken it upon himself to pick something up for them at Hanna's Diner. He'd usually stop by mid to late evening and they would dine together. Nico would share what she had done during the day, and surprisingly, Happy would share some tidbits with her—at least those that were unrelated to the Club's gun running business—and that was a feat of momentous proportions. Then they'd finish up the evening, sometimes in front of the flat screen that Nico had gotten one of the prospects to hook up in the living room, but usually they would end up in the sack.

It was a routine that had been quickly established since Happy had declared to everyone that Nico was his and as such, neither of them seemed to be willing to address the fact that Happy was spending more and more time living in her home than his dorm.

Now as she headed towards Jacob's office, Nico was pondering on whether she would have time to squeeze in one of her home cooked meals for Happy before she leaves town tomorrow when she suddenly slammed into a body that was exiting the building.

"Oh pardon me," Nico exclaimed. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"You weren't the only one Ms. Torelli," a deep baritone voice said.

Looking up, Nico stared into the mirrored sunglasses of a tall black man wearing a crisp dark blue uniform of the Sanwa Sheriff's Department and smiled.

"Well hello Lieutenant Roosevelt. It's nice to finally meet you," she replied and held out a hand.

"I see you know who I am," he replied as he took her small hand in his large one.

"And you know me as well," Nico agreed as she withdrew her hand. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here, considering that this is the mayor's place of business."

"Yes, I was 'summoned' to stop by to talk over a few of his concerns," Roosevelt smirked. "I heard on the grapevine that you're in town on business for the Sons."

"Really?" Nico drawled. "I didn't know that my movements in town would make the rounds."

"Well, it's a small town," he replied. "You can't help but notice shit around here, although seeing you on the mayor's doorstep is rather surprising. He has very little time for the MC."

"Well I wouldn't know about that. I'm actually here on personal business," Nico lied expertly.

"Well an enterprising man like myself would have to wonder what kind of business you would have with our mayor, considering your background."

"And what background is that exactly?"

"Well, the name Torelli isn't exactly like 'Smith' or 'Johnson.' It's pretty distinctive . . . especially in Reno," Roosevelt drawled.

Although Nico smiled it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Who would have guessed that the Torelli name would be known way out here by an officer of the law," she quipped. "The one thing you should know is that Torelli name stands for a lot."

"I'm aware," Roosevelt said evenly. "And I hope that while you're in town, it will be for all the right reasons." Opening the door for her, he gestured her inside. "Well I best be on my way. I don't want to hold you up from your meeting," he said quietly and nodding, turned and headed down the sidewalk.

Nico's eyes were focused like laser beams on the back of the retreating figure. It was obvious from his comments that the good lieutenant was well aware of her family background, the Syndicate and that she was working on behalf of the Sons. It definitely would mean keeping an ear to the ground when it came to the law man and Nico determined to advise Jax regarding her unexpected introduction as soon as possible. Hopefully, he would be able to use what contacts the Club still had within the Sanwa Sheriff's Department to keep an ear out for Roosevelt's interest in the Sons, because she had no intention of having her association with the Sons interfered with. Straightening her shoulders, Nico walked through the door.

_Best drop off this proposal to Jacob and maybe have a little talk about the good Sherriff with him too._

* * *

Margaret Murphy loved her job.

For some career-minded individuals, working as an administrator in a small hospital was probably the most boring job description ever created. However, Margaret didn't see it that way. After spending much of her early adult life living a life of addiction, dealing all manner of drugs and living the life of wild parties and mayhem, Margaret was grateful for the day she O.D. on fentanyl-laced heroin. On that day, she woke up and had an epiphany about her life course.

It was a defining moment that drove her to clean up her life. After spending several months completing a stint in a 12-step rehab program, Margaret left her former associates and way of life behind and returned to California to reunite with her estranged family. She went to college and earned a Bachelor's Degree in Healthcare Administration in her efforts to move forward in her life as a productive member of society. Upon completion of her education she was able to get a job at St. Thomas, and worked hard to get her Master's Degree in Healthcare Administration. Margaret finally felt as if she had truly overcame her former course of life when she met, fell in love with and married David Murphy and produced two fine children who were now in college.

Although being the administrator of St. Thomas could be tedious in the extreme, Margaret was grateful for the humdrum existence that she lived. It was a constant reminder—a protection from all the shit that she had left in the rearview—that life was a precious commodity that shouldn't be wasted on meaningless pursuits.

Now as she headed down the corridor to chair a staff meeting, Margaret turned the corner from the Oncology Department, and came to an abrupt halt. Wayne Unser—the former Chief of Charming PD—was standing at the reception desk folding some papers before shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans.

 _He looks . . . good_ , Margaret thought with surprise and smiled, genuinely happy to see him.

"Hello Chief Unser," Margaret said as she approached him. "It's good to see you."

"Well, hello," Unser replied. "It's nice to see you too. And it's just Unser or Wayne if you'd prefer." He smiled ruefully. "My days as Chief of Charming PD ended some time ago."

"All right Wayne." Margaret motioned to the department behind them. "Were you here for your chemo? You look well."

"Thanks. Actually, it's just a follow-up with my doc. I've been undergoing a new treatment at Stanford Cancer Care Centre. Considering I shoulda been pushing up daisies a year ago, I'm doing pretty well," Wayne grinned.

"That's amazing," Margaret replied. "I happen to be familiar with the Centre. Their treatments are really cutting edge, but—" she paused briefly a little discomfited.

"I guess you're probably wondering how I can afford the upgrade, huh?"

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

"Don't worry about it. I know you are well aware of my circumstances since you run this place. With the piss poor healthcare I had, I could barely afford getting medical care at St. Thomas. Fortunately for me, my business has gone through a transformation if you will and it's allowed me to upgrade my healthcare, thanks to the Club."

Margaret's lips thinned. "You're talking about SAMCRO."

"That's right. Jax has become quite the entrepreneur," Wayne said proudly. "He's interested in expanding the Club in a different direction and he's clearly capable of doing it." Noting the Margaret's stiff form, he eyed her curiously. "I guess that seems a little strange to you, huh?"

"Yes, I find that a little hard to believe," Margaret replied crisply. "That biker gang has been a stain on the town for decades. If there is one thing I know for sure Wayne is that a leopard can't change its spots."

"Too true. An _animal_ can't change its nature…but a _man_ _can_ , especially when his priority and focus is his love of his family and the men he calls his brothers," Unser said gently. "Regardless of what some in this town may believe, I think that Jax has an agenda and it's one that will bring wealth and prosperity, not only to the Sons, but to the town as well, and I'm grateful to be a recipient of that change. Well, I better let you get back to your work."

Margaret slowly shook her head as Wayne made his way towards the elevator. It was obvious that the former police chief continued to view the outlaw biker gang through rose-colored glasses. If, however, the Club _was_ involved with Unser Trucking, it was clear evidence that Wayne was indebted to the criminals with whom he had associated for many years.

Despite Wayne's assertions, Margaret truly believed that no good could come from the MC that had menaced the town for decades. The idea that Jax Teller had come to Wayne Unser's rescue was definitely puzzling, especially as it was obvious that with the former Chief of Police losing his position, he could no longer be of any help to the Club in protecting its criminal interests.

 _If Tara were here, she probably would have tried to convince me that Jax Teller coming to Wayne Unser's rescue showed that he was a good man at heart_ , Margaret thought as she turned to head towards her office. Fortunately, Tara Knowles had finally come to her senses and had made the decision to start her life over in Oregon. Margaret was happy that despite her friend's misgivings, Tara had seen the light and had gotten as far away from the Sons as she could.

Regardless of what Wayne Unser believed, it was extremely unlikely that the Sons of Anarchy would ever trod the straight and narrow, and had Tara managed to patch up her tattered relationship with Teller, she would never have lived a safe and happy life with the outlaw gang.

Never.

* * *

It was hearing the childish and happy laughter of his son that always managed to breathe new life into Jackson Teller.

Leaning against the open patio door, Jax grinned as he watched his son running on short, sturdy legs with his mother running behind him, Abel seeming to easily evade her. It really amazed Jax how well his son continued to grow considering all the shit that he had gone through since his birth—his problematic entry into the world barely surviving his premature birth at the hands of his junky mother combined with the Teller family flaw of chronic heart disease—Abel had miraculously survived both situations only to be kidnapped from his home and nearly sold to another family.

It had only been through the strength and persistence of both his mother and stepfather that Jax could stand here today and be a father to his son and despite all the issues that he was currently having with Clay, he was thankful that the older man had refused to let him give up on finding his son.

 _And now that I have Abel and Marley, nothing can stop me from getting to my goal_ , Jax thought to himself. It almost made him want to turn cartwheels.

It seemed that his son had a similar thought and having tumbled down on the grass rolled over and spotting his father, yelled with excitement. "Daddy's home!" as he scrambled up on his feet and took off running.

Bending down, Jax caught the boy in mid leap and hoisted him into the air, eliciting Abel's laughter. "Hey there, little man. What you doing?"

"Playing," Abel announced. "Mommy's been trying to catch me but she can't. She's too slow."

"Not my fault," Marlowe replied as she joined them. "I've had a long day and I'm pooped." She grinned and reaching up, accepted an eager kiss from her old man. "Hey babe. Miss me?"

"All the damn time," he muttered before kissing her back deeply, despite the little boy wiggling in his arms. "It's good to be home."

"Yeah, but you're going to have to make do with just a happy and clean castle as I'm too damn tired to cook," Marlowe snarked as she headed inside, her old man and son following. "Fortunately for us, God created pizza shops," and smiled as the doorbell rang and turned to hold out a hand. "Why don't you and Abel get cleaned up and give me some bank dude, so we can get our eat on."

* * *

"I think Hap really likes Nico," Marlowe said drowsily. "What do you think?"

"I know he really likes banging her," Jax smirked and then moaned as his old lady's elbow made contact with his ribs. "Shit, babe, that hurt," as he wrapped his arms around her body.

"It was supposed to," Marlowe muttered. The two of them lay spent in their large bed after a rather intense session of love making. With Abel down for the count, the two of them had decided to make an early night of it, and although Marlowe had had a long day, she still managed to find enough energy to thoroughly make love with her old man.

Now, as the two lay spooning in their bed, their favorite position—Marlowe figured it was a good time to quiz her old man on the subject of her brother's love life. Turning around to face Jax, she pursed her lips. "I'm being serious here. I want to know what you think. You two are pretty tight. Hap must have told you something."

"Hap is not exactly the most talkative of my brothers. You know him. He tends to keep shit pretty close to his chest." Jax's tone was reasonable as he eyed his sulking old lady. "What did you think he'd tell me?"

"Oh, I don't know. I was just hoping to get a better read on the situation is all. I think it's pretty obvious that she's more to him than just a quick fuck, especially the way I heard shit went down between them at the Clubhouse, but I want to know if it's enough for him to—" she paused.

"To what?" Jax asked and then smiled in the darkness. "To make Nico his old lady."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen," Marlowe said plausibly. "You have to admit that Nico is a bad ass. Any woman who'd be willing to take up with my brother would have to be."

"I agree with you on that, but who's to say that Nico is looking for a permanent relationship. I mean, she's a high grade kind of a woman. Happy ain't exactly the kind of man you'd expect her to be with. I mean, none of us are. She certainly knows how to handle her shit when she's in the Clubhouse and she's doing all the right shit for us as our lawyer, but it takes a pretty special woman who'd be willing to put up with a bunch of crazy ass outlaw bikers full time."

"Soon to be just 'crazy ass bikers'," Marlowe replied. "And despite what you think, I'm pretty sure that Nico would have no problems putting up with Happy's ass permanently, that is, if he were interested."

Jax tucked a strand of hair behind Marlowe's ear. "So what, you want me to find out? Is that what this fishing expedition is about?"

Marlowe shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just thinking that as the Club's president, you'd be concerned about your brother's happiness and welfare is all," she said airily. "Just marinate on it for a bit."

"I can do that, but how about I keep my focus on you right now?"

"I guess that wouldn't hurt."

Wrapping his arms around his old lady, Jax started to make love to her once again. As he fell into the wonderful slow and easy rhythm with his old lady, Jax knew that there was nothing that would make him more happy than if Marlowe would become his wife.

_I'm not going to push it now. But eventually, I have to make her mine. And when I do, maybe it will be the wakeup call my brother needs._

While Jax suspected that Happy's heart was far more invested in Nico than he realized, he knew that it was probably going to take something major to happen before the crusty biker came to that conclusion on his own.

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Thursday, June 2, 2011** _

"Well, I guess this is it, Killer," Nico simply.

"Yeah," Happy replied as he rested his hands on her ass.

Standing outside of her small rental home, Nico bit her lip as she looked up her man and found to her surprise that she was trembling a little with emotion.

 _Knock it off_ , she ordered herself. _It's not like you haven't left Charming before._

But this time _was_ a little different. The last time she had to take care of Syndicate business, Nico was nothing more to Happy Lowman than the Club's counsel and a tight piece of ass that he was banging. Now, as she left Charming, she was _his woman_. There was a distinct difference, and it seemed that even Happy recognized it.

"You make sure you take care of my shit, a'ight? That's my pussy you're walking off with."

"You gonna miss her, huh?" she teased. "You know technically since I won't be in Charming, my pussy—"

"—is still mine," Happy said firmly.

Nico smirked. "There's no need to worry, outlaw. I won't be whooping it up with anybody else. This is strictly family time with my baby boy. I'm so glad he's coming home."

"You really missed him, huh?"

Nico nodded. "It's going to be good to just have some uninterrupted time with Tonio. I know sending him back to boarding school was the right thing to do but I have to admit, it was still hard to do it."

"Well, just make sure you have your ass back here in a week like you planned."

"I will. I cleared away a lot of shit at UT and with Jax's pitch for the new T-M business complete, there's nothing that should come up while I'm away."

"I ain't concerned about that shit. I know you're the Boss Lady when it comes to the lawyering. I just want to make sure you're safe is all," Happy replied as he watched her eyes widen in surprise. "That's my job as SAA, taking care of shit," he said gruffly. "So don't get yourself into any trouble out there."

Nico was gratified by his concern. "How can I?" she quipped. "It's my home town, Hap. Shit won't go sideways there."

"It better not, but , if shit jumps off, I better be your first call," he muttered before bending down to take her mouth with his own. Stretching up to grasp Happy's head between her hands, Nico returned his kiss fervently, their tongues dueling deeply and quickly before she finally pulled back to get some air. "Whoa, Hap. I better get outta here before we start some shit we can't finish," she whispered.

"Yeah, a'ight," he conceded before taking her lips again quickly. Releasing her, he watched as she turned away and opened the door to her cage and got in. Happy bent down as she rolled down the window.

"Remember what I said. Keep out of trouble and send me a text when your ass gets to Reno," he ordered.

"I will Killer," Nico promised. "See you in a week."

Happy stood up and watched as she pulled out of her driveway and with a roar streaked down the street.

"Damn woman has a lead foot," he said admiringly before striding towards his ride.

"But her ass better be back here by next Thursday, or all hell is going to pay."

* * *

_**Friday, June 3, 2011** _

"I don't believe this shit," Marlowe said ominously as she came to a halt by the bar, her eyes boring a hole into an unsuspecting patch.

Jax focused his eyes in the same direction and groaned under his breath. "Damn, bro," he muttered.

With the after church party in full swing, Jax and Marlowe had snuck off to his old dorm for some private time and had just returned to the party thoroughly rumpled and happy. Swearing under his breath, Jax wished that he had followed his instincts to suggest to his old lady that they slip out the back door and head home instead of hanging out a while longer. If he had, he might have avoided what was probably about to be an epic blow out between his old lady and his SAA.

Grimacing, Jax stood alongside his old lady and watched the bold croweater as she tried to straddle herself across Happy's lap as he sat at one of small tables across from the bar. The noise level—a combination of loud rock music, a heated game of pool and noisy conversation drowned out what Happy was saying to the young brunette—but it didn't stop either the SAMCRO Prez or his old lady from drawing the conclusion that the croweater—a very recent addition—was intent on banging the hell out of the SAA.

"Babe," Jax warned but was cut off.

"Oh no, Jax. Don't even ask me not to get involved," Marlowe muttered as she reached down to pull out her KA-BAR. "This shit is getting handled." She watched as the young woman dressed in nothing but a bright red tube top and an extremely tight leather miniskirt pushed up on her brother. Striding forward, Marlowe cut through the crowds to stand directly behind her brother. Holding up her knife, Marlowe gave the woman a fulminating glare and using it, drew it across her neck in the standard I-will-slit-your-throat gesture.

Jax smacked his lips at the image his old lady made, standing tall in her combat boots and a pair of tight jeans molded over her curvy ass. Her deeply defined biceps and triceps looked totally bad ass in favorite NAVY t-shirt, and holding her knife she looked poised for battle. She looked sexy as hell. She was also scary as hell and the visual was apparently all that was needed as the croweater scrambled away from Happy and took off for the far corner of the room.

"What the fuck?" Marlowe heard Happy mutter as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head he spotted his sister—and the knife— and rolled his eyes. "Marley what the fuck are you doing?"

"Can I see you in the kitchen please?" Marlowe said with a smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. "Like, right now," she said softly but forcefully. "I'd like to have a little talk with you," she said meaningfully, "and I don't think you want an audience."

Bending over to shove her knife back into her combat boot, she waited patiently for Happy to rise to his feet.

"What the fuck is her problem?" Happy muttered to Jax.

"I think you're gonna find out in a minute," Jax advised. "Just remember, she's your sister, but she's my old lady, so do whatever you think is best, but don't kill her," he warned. "I'd hate to have to find a new SAA."

"Noted."

"Damn it, Hap. Are you mental? What the fuck were you doing with that croweater?" Marlowe said angrily as she walked behind him into the kitchen. "I swear Tía must have dropped you on your head a couple of times because this shit is stupid."

"You're the one whose crazy if you think you can come up into _my Clubhouse_ and tell me how to run my shit," Happy shot back. "Especially since—"

"Uh, excuse me, but maybe you may have forgotten but as your family and in my role as the new HBIC in charge when it comes to all SAMCRO family-related matters, I have _every_ right to call you on some bullshit, and what I saw out there was some bullshit," Marlowe argued. "How the fuck can you let some croweater rub all over you after the shit you pulled in putting Nico on lock down? You may not have put your crow on her, but you might as well have, and now barely a couple of weeks have gone by and you're going to disrespect her by getting your rocks off with the slut over there? You're my brother and I love you, but Nico has become a good friend, and I'm not going to stand by and watch you disrespect her—"

"—I wasn't doing shit," Happy yelled over her words as he got into her face. "I was about to tell the bitch to hit the bricks when you stuck your big ass nose into my shit."

Marlowe's gray eyes searched her brother's angrily glittering ones and bit her lip as she read the truth in them. "Oh shit," she muttered.

"Oh yeah 'oh shit'," Happy said grimly his arms crossed over his chest.

"I thought—" Marlowe fumbled.

"No, you didn't think—a typical jarhead move—"

"It's squid, Hap. I was in the Navy, not the Marines. If you're gonna insult my ass, try and use the right terminology," Marlowe said hoping a little humor would alleviate the situation.

It didn't work.

"Little girl, I've been handling my shit long before Kozik shot out the load of spunk that made you and will be handling my shit long after your rack heads south for the border. I don't need you telling me how to deal with or treat my wom—Tiny. I got that shit covered. A'ight?"

Marlowe sighed and ran a hand through her caramel colored hair. "I get it," she conceded. "It's just that I'm concerned—"

"There ain't no need to be—"

"Yes there is Hap. Look, bottom line, I think Nico Torelli is probably the best damn thing to happen to a schmuck like you and I don't want to see you lose out on—"

"On what?" Happy blustered.

"On being _happy_. Despite all the bad crazy shit you do and will continue to do, I still believe you deserve to be happy and I think Nico is the only kind of woman that could be with your crazy, masochistic ass and not kill you. I think she's your Bonnie, 'Clyde'," Marlowe grinned as her brother rolled his eyes, "whether you want to admit it or not. And if you have any brains you'll find a way to get her to stick around Charming after she finishes shit with the Club."

"Just saying."


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

 

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada—Saturday, June 4, 2011** _

Dominic Torelli stood, a silent figure dressed in stylish black from head to toe as he eyed his sister warily. For the last thirty minutes, Nico had spent the time alternating between looking at her watch and pacing outside the baggage claim area of the Reno-Tahoe International Airport.

 _It was a good thing I convinced her to have Ma's chauffeur drive us here_ , Dominic thought ruefully. _Nic is so twisted up right now I think she might have run us off the road_.

Although the Torelli siblings were the only family at the airport, they were not alone. Besides their mother's chauffeur, there were four Torelli soldiers who were currently on hand—two of them with the limo in a chase car while the other two were at a discreet distance away, their tailored designer suits adequately covering up the fact that they were well armed.

Despite the fact that it had been months since Rocco Agnello's abduction and killing, Jimmy Cacuzza had made it abundantly clear that no family member was to go anywhere without a security detail and although Dominic found it to be a headache for himself, he had agreed that it was a necessity for his sister, even for the brief time she was home. Nico didn't appreciate being protected however, and had raised a stink until their uncle had put his foot down.

Now as Dom watched her, his upper lip curled with amusement at her irritation.

"Shit, what's taking so long?" Nico complained.

"Nic, he has to go through customs," Dom said in a reasonable tone, his hands shoved into the pockets of his Armani slacks. "Stop pacing. You're about to jack up those glam Prada's by wearing down those stiletto heels to a nub."

"Tonio went through customs when he landed at McCarran Airport as his first point of entry into the States before catching his connection home. Something's wrong," she said before biting her lip.

"Then maybe it's just taking a minute for the baggage handlers to unload the luggage from the plane. You know that shit can take forever."

"Not when he's travelling first-class. His shit should have been first off the fucking plane," Nico countered.

"Calm down mama bear. I've never seen you this jittery before." Dom wrapped a beefy arm around his sister's shoulders and squeezed gently. "What's got you so skittish?"

Nico shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just need to see him is all. It's been months since I've seen my baby."

From the moment she had arrived back in Reno, Nico had spent all of her time preparing for her son's arrival. Her housekeeper had, as usual, seen to the general upkeep of the Torelli home, but Nico wanted to do the extra personal touches herself—preparing his bathroom with fresh towels and new sheets on the bed, arranging for the refrigerator to be fully stocked with all his favorite foods, and she had already prepared all the ingredients for a special breakfast brunch for the following morning that she would cook with her own two hands.

Nico had planned to have a big welcome home party at their home, but Rosanna Torelli had firmly put her foot down and declared that the party would be held at the Torelli Estate where Tonio could be properly reunited with his family. It had taken Dominic nearly twenty minutes to talk Nico off the ledge but she had finally agreed to her mother's demands and even now the full band of Torellis as well as their extended family and associates were waiting for Tonio's arrival.

"Well," Dom drawled, "that shit explains everything. There's my nephew . . . and he's not alone."

"What?" Nico said blankly as she swiveled around. "Are you kidding me?" she screeched.

Slowly approaching the airport employee standing guard at the gate was Tonio. Tall and rangy, wearing a pair of designer jeans, a t-shirt and a lightweight leather jacket, Antonio Torelli made a pleasingly attractive appearance, his shoulder length dark hair full of waves and curls. With a large backpack slung over his shoulders, Tonio dragged not one, but two large pieces of luggage behind him as he was fully engaged in speaking with his companion, a very beautiful young woman.

Nico narrowed her eyes at the boyishly slim figure, wavy dark brown hair and attractive heart-shaped face. "Well shit," she gasped. "What the fuck is he doing?"

"Using a combination of chivalry and the Torelli charm to get his flirt on, I'd say," Dom said proudly. "Now, the question that remains is, will he score her digits?"

"Oh shut up," Nico hissed, elbowing him sharply in the gut and eliciting a loud grunt of pain.

The two of them watched as having shown their baggage claim tickets to the guard, the pair exited the gate. Handing over the large pink and white wheeled luggage to his companion, Nico pursed her lips into a frown as her son pulled out his phone and handed it to the young woman, who eagerly exchanged it with her own.

"That's my boy," Dom crowed quietly as it was obvious that the two were exchanging contact information.

"He's too young for this shit," Nico said, with worry in her voice.

"He's 15 now, Nic. For a Torelli, he's a late bloomer. I started getting my hustle on when I was 12."

"That's because your ass was a nasty, sex-crazed, hormonal mess, unlike my sweet baby," Nico replied as the young woman waved goodbye and headed towards the exit.

It was only then that Tonio turned and smiled widely as he spotted his mother and uncle and dragging his luggage behind him, headed in their direction.

Seeing her son, walking so tall and confidently towards her, Nico completely lost her head. "My baby," she squealed loudly, literally scaring a few bystanders, and forgot the stern lecture she had drilled into her head on the way to the airport about doing nothing to embarrass her teenaged son. Nico started walking quickly, then went into a fast sprint before finally taking a little leap to wrap her arms around his waist, nearly bowling him over.

"Ma!" Tonio whined but nonetheless, wrapped his own arms around her small frame and fervently returned the hug as his mother started to bawl loudly. Fussing at his mother for crying and causing a scene—yet completing ignoring his own teary eyes—Tonio rubbed and squeezed her small frame against his body simultaneously.

"Hey, don't choke your mother. She's still good for some shit," Dom joked as he approached the mother and son.

"Hey Uncle Dom," Tonio said, his voice cracking and extending his arm was firmly embraced by his uncle, the three Torelli's making a picture of a happy and reunited family. "Ma, please stop blubbering."

"I'm not blubbering," Nico lied outright as she swiped at her eyes with her knuckles. "Some shit flew into my eye is all."

Releasing them so that they finally stood apart, Dom grinned as his nephew kept a firm arm wrapped his mother's shoulders and pulled out of his jacket pocket one of the fine linen handkerchiefs that his grandmother personally monogrammed for him and had ordered him to keep on his person at all times. Handing it to his mother, Tonio rolled his eyes as she snatched it from him to blow her nose several times. "Don't give that back to me Ma. I don't need it now that it's been used."

Dom slapped a hearty hand on his nephew's back. "I saw you got them digits, Tone," Dom grinned hugely. "That was really slick, playa."

Giving her nose one final blow, Nico tucked the used hanky into her purse and turned to glare at her brother. "Stop encouraging my baby," she ordered.

"Ma, I'm not a baby. I'm a grown ass man," Tonio argued, his soft baritone voice cracking nonetheless.

Nico sniffed. "You're a teenaged boy until _I_ say different. And what _was_ all of that anyway?"

"You always taught me to be kind and chivalrous towards the opposite sex, Ma. I was only doing what _you_ taught me to do," Tonio quipped.

"Good save, son," Dom snickered.

"I didn't teach you to pick up strange girls in airports."

"She's not strange. Her name's Emma. I met her on the flight over. She boards at St. Anne's in Basel and is stopping here for a couple of weeks to visit some friends before she makes her way home to her family in New York." Tonio shrugged and simultaneously winked at his uncle. "I offered to show her around Reno," he said a little bashfully.

"In what?" Nico exclaimed. "You don't have a ride _or_ a driver's license."

"I thought maybe Nonna wouldn't mind lending me her car and driver," Tonio grinned mischievously. "Her last name is Danza."

"Tonio, that's a road you don't want to go down with your grandmother. You give her an inch, and she'll take two miles on you," Dom advised. "Believe me, I know from experience."

"Forget all of that," Nico brushed off the implications of her son's interest in dating anyone, least of which some strange girl he had just met.

"You know I find it personally annoying that Ma is so hyped up on me talking to a girl instead of what we should really be talking about—the fact that I've shot up three more inches," Tonio grinned widely as he looked down at his suddenly sulking mother. "That's right Ma. Take a good look," Tonio stretched himself to his full height. "I'm 5'9 now," he boasted. "I'm way taller than you, even with those heels you're rocking."

Dom snorted. "He's gotta point, Nic."

"Shut up!" Nico rolled her eyes her brother and totally ignoring the two males currently cackling at her expense jumped on her next bone of contention. "Forget your height. What have you done with your hair? Did you become allergic to a pair of scissors?" Nico exclaimed as she reached up to run a hand through his messy curls. "And what's this?" she tugged at the blond streaks throughout his hair.

"Ma, c'mon on," he muttered. "People are watching."

"Like I give a fuck," she shot back. "Did I send you to a European hippie school and nobody told me about it? Why do you have all this hair on your head? I thought there was a dress code."

"There is," Tonio replied reasonably, "but they relaxed it during the spring semester. Now that I'm out for the summer break, me and a bunch of the guys decided to do something a little retro, hipster. Besides, it's not permanent. It'll wash out."

"Retro? Hipster? Well, I'm going to love seeing how you explain this shit to your grandmother." Nico grinned almost evilly as a frown crossed her son's face. "Oh, so you forgot all about the ball buster your Nonna is? _This_ is going to be good."

"Come on you two. Speaking of the woman who is more devil than angel, we better get a move on," Dom said as he grabbed his nephew's luggage. "The whole crew is waiting for us back home."

* * *

" _Mio_ _nipote_ ," Rosanna all but shrieked with joy as she wrapped her arms around the boy, a spate of Italian flowing out in joy and appreciation at his arrival.

"Hey Nonna." Tonio's voice was smothered against the woman's neck as he returned her embrace.

"Look at my baby," the older woman crooned. "How tall you've gotten. You're nearly a man now," she exclaimed. "But what is this?" she inquired as she ran her hand over Tonio's wild blond streaked curls.

"See, I told you. He's gonna get it," Nico said gleefully to her brother who was standing at her side.

"Look at my Tonio. He's so cute and sexy!" Rosanna proclaimed loudly. "He's gonna drive all the girls wild, huh?"

"Nonna?!" her grandson replied, his skin flushing with embarrassment. "Stop it."

"Why should I? You look just like my Gianni when he was a wild young man. No blond streaks, though." Rosanna pursed her lips as she considered the highlighted streaks. "But I like it," she declared and watched her grandson's eyes light up with surprise and mirth.

"Really?" he said excitedly.

"Yes I do. Just because I'm an old woman doesn't mean I can't be hip with it," she shot back at him, tugging on one of curls gently.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Nico said with disbelief while Dom's shoulders started to shake with laughter. "If you or me showed up looking more or less like a striped skunk, she would have shaved our fucking heads bald and then made us kneel on uncooked rice for an hour to teach us a lesson."

"That's one of the perks of being a grandchild. They get away with all kinds of shit that their parents never could," he replied.

It definitely was a happy scene. The small atrium at the rear of the mansion was bursting with family, as well as a small number of made men, under bosses and capos among them. As usual, Rosanna Torelli had spared no expense in welcoming back her grandson from his "banishment," and there was plenty of food and beverages flowing freely.

"You should know that shit by now," Donatella Torelli Lipari, or Donnie as she was affectionately known by her family, said as she wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders. "It's the same shit for my brood," she quietly commiserated. "Christina, A.J., Marco and Daniella get away with all manner of shit with Mama. This is nothing new. You just haven't seen Mama in action since Tonio left for boarding school."

"Grandchildren can do no wrong," Gianna Torelli Silvestri agreed as she joined the group. "Also, pregnant daughters get away with all kinds of stuff too," she smiled placidly as she rubbed her ever growing baby bump. "Now if Dom ever has kids, he'll experience it too and we'll all be officially passed over by Mama while she showers all her love and affection on our children."

"Kids?" Dom said disbelievingly and shook his head violently. "Not going to happen any time soon, even if I can get Elena on board."

"Besides, Mama would kill his ass, especially if he marries her," Donnie snickered and rolled her eyes at her brother's irritation. "What? You know it's true. But if you did marry Elena, she'd probably replace Nico as the black sheep of the family," she teased.

"You know that might not be such a bad thing," Nico said with interest. "I'd like nothing better than to permanently get off Mama's shit list."

"What have I told you about cursing in front of my baby?" Gianna said irritably. "If my baby comes out looking like George Clooney I'm going to jack you up."

"Wouldn't that be a good thing?" Dom asked perplexed.

"It would, if I was having a _boy_ ," his older sister shot back. "But it's official now. My _figlia_ was shy during the last sonogram a month ago but she finally showed herself this week," she crowed. "The boys are so upset, but my girls are happy now that they will outnumber their brothers.""

"Well, despite seing Tonio getting away with shi—stuff," Nico amended as she eyed her glaring sister, "I'm glad he's home for the summer. I've really missed my baby." Seeing her mother turn in her direction and fastening a glaring eye on her, Nico realized that she had been overheard, as her mother made her way over to her children.

"Oh shit," Donnie murmured quietly. "I think you might be in for it now."

Coming to a stop in front of her children, Rosanna looked less like a beaming grandmother and more like a dictator as she turned to her youngest daughter. "It is good that my grandson is home," Rosanna said, "but I think it's best that Tonio should stay here with me this week," Rosanna announced.

Nico's response was brief and to the point. "No."

* * *

Standing next to a pair of glass doors, a lean and dark figure quietly sipped on his drink as he observed the family welcoming the young prince home. It wasn't his habit to associate with the higher ups on the food chain during family functions, but his boss had wanted him there in an observatory capacity and he was an ever faithful and dutiful soldier.

He had spent much of the gathering socializing with associates of similar rank as himself and had behaved respectfully to the wives and children of the Torelli family, but his special focus had been on the inner circle.

With narrow eyes he observed the current family squabble as the matriarch of the Torelli family went toe-to-toe with her youngest daughter. With a rueful smile, the man felt like he was watching his own family back in Brooklyn. Regardless of the location, it seemed that the family dynamics of an Italian family were universal.

Grinning as he watched Nico Torelli firmly and successfully oppose her mother, it was easy to surmise why it was that his boss was so interested in gathering Intel on the black sheep of the family.

Hopefully his boss would soon dial him into the plans he had regarding the young woman.

_But somehow I suspect that they won't be good._

_At all._

* * *

_**Ely Prison, Nevada—Monday, June 6, 2011** _

Gianni "Brooklyn Johnny T" Torelli did not consider himself to be an overly sentimental man, but as he eyed his daughter and grandson, he had to hold back his tears. He was so extremely proud of his family and he greatly missed being able to see his grandchildren grow.

 _My grandson carries himself well, despite that crazy shit he's done with his hair_ , Gianni thought kindly. _I know it can't be an easy thing for him to see me in the joint._

Tonio was a credit to his family, although his piece of shit father had nothing to do with it. It was clearly evident from the reports of his boarding school that Tonio was an extremely intelligent, outgoing boy just like his mother. He stood tall and proud at his mother's side and had apparently shot up since he had last seen him some months before. Despite being a teenager, he had an air of maturity, probably a trait he had developed from living on his own in a foreign country.

Today was a great day for a visit as Gianni was having a good day health-wise and knowing that his family was coming, he had made a special effort to get cleaned up. His hair had been cut and his face was freshly shaven by the prison barber and he had actually slapped his face a few times to bring some color into his cheeks before their arrival.

Gianni had been transferred to a slightly smaller ward in the prison infirmary consisting of just three beds. The room was brighter with large windows that although were heavily barred allowed the light to stream into the room and not make his situation look as dismal and hopeless as usual.

Sitting up straight in his bed, Gianni did his best to display his normal swagger and it would seem by his grandson's response—a mix of satisfaction and relief that emanated from his eyes—that Gianni had fully accomplished his goal, which was to appear to be at the peak of health and vitality.

He was pretty sure however, that his daughter was well aware of his deception but instead of calling him out on it, she had fully supported him and the small family thoroughly enjoyed one another's company in the brief time that they had.

Gianni stretched out his arm to take Tonio's hand in his own. "I'm going to be getting out of this shithole soon, Tonio. I promise you. Your mother's hired a kick ass team of lawyers. Too bad I hadn't hired them instead of making do with Lorenzo's stupid ass."

"Whatever happened to him, Nonno? I haven't seen him at any of the family functions in a long time." Tonio questioned.

Nico eyed her father with a frown and answered for him. "He decided that being a lawyer didn't really suit him," Nico lied. "He moved out East. I believe he's looking into joining the priesthood." Eyeing her son and noting his expression, Nico smiled inwardly as the improvisation of the move seemed to have satisfied her son's curiosity, for which she was grateful.

"Well enough of him," Gianni said gruffly, and pulling his grandson towards him, motioned for him to bend down so that he could press a hearty kiss on his forehead. Grasping the side of his head and the nape of his neck with his huge hands, Gianni said, "I'm proud of you Tonio. You're a good boy. If you always do as your mother says, you'll never go wrong. Promise me?"

"I will if you promise me something."

"What's that?"

"Stay alive," Tonio said simply.

"I can try."

"You can _do_ ," Tonio emphasized. "There is no _try_."

"Shit, the boy is quoting Yoda on me."

"Why not? It's good shit," the boy said confidently. "When you get out of here, we're gonna watch Episodes 4-6 together just like we used to, right?"

"You bet," Gianni agreed. "Now, you go on now. Wait outside for a little bit. I need to talk to your mother alone."

Taking a moment to eye both of them suspiciously, Tonio sighed and reaching over to give his grandfather a final hug, headed to the exit and knocking on the door, it was unlocked by a C.O. so that he could exit.

"He's a smart kid, _cara,_ " Gianni said wistfully. "A little _too_ damn smart."

"He's a Torelli. That's a given," Nico replied.

"He's nothing like his father."

"Thank God for that," she agreed.

"How do you think he's coping . . . with the POS being dead?"

Nico shrugged her shoulders. "As well as any growing teenage boy could be expected to handle something like that. Rocco didn't exactly die of a heart attack and Tonio knows that—at least he thinks he has the full story and he has no reason to question it. As far as he knows his father's bad choices are why he lost his life and that's the truth—"

"—just not the complete and accurate truth," Gianni concluded. "Now that he is home, have you decided whether you are going to keep him here in the States?"

"The jury is still out on that," Nico replied. "You know that Zio has made a move to finish the clean up on a few matters," she said delicately. "One of them is permanently finished without any fallout." Nico said the coded words without fanfare, and was successful in telegraphing that one of Rocco's underlings who was a part of the plot to assassinate Gianni had been dispatched without incident. "I'm sure that the other personnel problem will be handled soon as well. Then I'll feel better about Tonio coming home if that is what he wants."

"That's good to know," Gianni sighed. "I just wish the other problem that your uncle is dealing with would get settled."

Nico frowned. "I'm not sure I'm following you."

"Your brother. I don't know, _cara_. I'm not sure this is going to work out."

"Oh Papa, don't sweat this shit. Dom is doing well—"

"Not well enough. I mean, yeah, he's getting shit done, but it's like he's just going through the fucking motions."

"You can't expect him to love this shit the way that you do."

"Or you?" Gianni inquired.

"Don't bring me into this."

"Why not? You can run circles around your brother. I know it, Jimmy knows it—"

"And nobody else and it's probably a good thing too. I know my lane."

"Well maybe you should get out of it."

"Maybe you should find something else to worry about other than the Family, like getting your health on track," Nico argued.

"Fine. Let's talk about something else. Like you . . . and that baldheaded biker."

"Papa, I am _not_ going to talk about my sex life with you," Nico warned.

"I'm not asking you to. However, you may not get a choice with your mother."

"What's Mama have to do with—," Nico paused and focusing on her father's shifting gaze, it suddenly hit her. "Oh hell no! Mama knows?"

"Yeah, but it ain't my fault. Honestly," Gianni held up both his hands as to wash himself of the blame. "I don't know how your mother found out, but the last time she was up here she went on a fucking tear."

"Damn it!" Nico muttered. "Well, maybe it's not too bad. She hasn't said anything to me about it."

" _Yet_. Probably because she's all caught up with Tonio being home, but believe me, she's going to talk to you about it. She told me so."

"I don't want to have this discussion with her. If I go there, I'm bound to say some shit she doesn't want to hear."

"I know but avoiding the situation ain't going to help. I've learned a thing or two being married to Rosie for over 40 years. One of which is to get in front of shit with her. It's a good tactical advantage. It would be a better play if you brought it up and then quickly shut down any discussion of your love life as not being something she needs to concern herself about. I told her that I trusted you, which was why I didn't put a stop to it. My big mouth almost got me killed in this bed when she realized that I knew all about you and the biker. So, how's that going anyway?"

"It's going," Nico said evasively.

"You spending a lot of time together?" Gianni asked tentatively.

"Kind of, but that's partially Zio's fault as he pushed for Jax Teller to have Happy provide me with security while I'm in Charming."

"Good. I like knowing that the fucker who helped you out is watching out for you. California is a long way away from home. I'll be glad when you finish shit up for the Sons and come home where you belong."

"Yeah," Nico replied hollowly. "So will I." Standing up, she bent over to give her father a hearty hug and kiss and was kissed in return. "I better get out of here. I promised Mama to get Tonio back home soon. All the cousins are coming for a big pool party."

As she headed towards the door, Nico pursed her lips in a menacing smile.

_With all the kids occupied, I think it's as good a time as any to have a long talk with Mama to get her to keep her nose out of my business._

* * *

Nico was beyond pissed.

She had done a good job hiding how greatly she was pissed from her father and Tonio, but as she and her son rode back to the Torelli Estate, inside Nico was a steaming hot ball of wax that was set to explode—all over Rosanna Torelli.

 _If it isn't bad enough that Papa is in prison and fighting for his life, he has to deal with my crazy mother losing her shit over my fucking personal life._ Nico's inner rage continued to simmer over the hour drive back to the Torelli compound.

Nico didn't have a problem letting her mother know when she had crossed her personal boundaries, especially when it was important to her. However, ever since her father had been imprisoned, Nico had found it easier to just let her mother lose her shit, not to fight back or to just swallow her pride out of a sense of love and obligation. If she lost her shit with her, Nico felt it would be hitting below the belt, especially considering the possibility that Rosanna might never be reunited with her husband, a thought that terrified Nico too. Cutting loose on her might be tempting, but it was entirely possible that she would damage their already fragile relationship.

But with what she had heard today, Nico realized that enough was enough. It was time for Rosanna Torelli to understand clearly that although she might have brought her into the world, Nico Torelli was her own woman and she would not be dictated to about how she lived her personal life.

After entering the compound, Nico dismissed their security and headed with her son towards the pool. The party was already at a good start if the loud music that emanated from the speakers was anything to go by. The scene was chaotic as an all-out melee of water volleyball was being warred between more than a dozen cousins and friends of varying ages and sexes as they battled for supremacy.

"Awesome," Tonio exclaimed as his oldest boy cousin A.J. spiked a ball in the opposition's court, splashing not only his sister Christina, but their mother.

"Hey!" Donnie yelled aloud as the wave of chlorine-filled water sprayed her white Donna Karan two-piece ensemble. "Watch it! This shit ain't supposed to get wet!" she scolded her son.

"Ma, then what's the point of wearing it?!" A.J. winked at her before throwing himself back into the fray. "Hey," he shouted as he spotted Tonio. "My wing man is finally here. Get your ass in the pool house and change. We got an enemy to kill."

"Sure thing," Tonio said eagerly turning to his mother. "I'll see you later," before he ran at breakneck speed towards the pool house.

"Slow down, damn it," she yelled at him and with a sigh, turned and headed towards her sisters. While Donnie was spread underneath a huge umbrella, preferring to get her tan courtesy of her favorite salon, Gia was stretched out on a lounge chair totally looking like a sun worshipper as the sun beat down on her well-oiled body. Unlike her sister, Gia didn't mind if her two piece designer suit got used as it was obvious that it was still damp from a dip in the pool. Her belly bump was slathered liberally with sunscreen lotion and sporting a large pair of Prada sunglasses, she was fast asleep.

Stomping over Nico threw herself into the unoccupied chair next to her sister with a huff.

"Uh oh," Donnie replied as she lifted up her sunglasses to eye her younger sister's heaving bosom. "I know that look. What's Mama done to you now?"

"What's she's done is to involve herself one time too many in my personal life," Nico spat as she tossed her handbag down at the foot of the chair.

"Why don't you tell me something new?" Donnie said sarcastically.

"I can't because it is always SOS—the same old shit with her."

"Then why are you letting it get to you? Just put it in the rearview and keep moving," Donnie counseled.

"Not this time. Not when she's trying to get between me and Hap—" Nico started and stopped.

"Hap? Hap who? Oh wait. Don't tell me. Is this the biker?" Donnie said with some excitement and disapproval.

"How the fuck do you know about him?" Nico sputtered.

"Girl, _everybody_ knows about him," Donnie said in a low, confidential tone, not wanting the splashing children to overhear. "I'm really sorry about that, but it's kind Gia's fault."

"No, it is not," Gia said sleepily as she turned on her side to face them. "It's your fault for not warning me _not_ to tell Mama."

" _You_ dimed me out?" Nico exclaimed, sitting up and turning to face her sister.

"Well technically it was Dom's fault because he told me first and then I told Gia and with her stupid pregnancy brain she blabbed to Mama," Donnie admitted.

Nico was outraged. "Why you—"

"You can't hit me," Gia exclaimed. "I'm pregnant so I'm off limits until I give birth."

"When you do I'm going to kick your ass."

"Look regardless as to who was responsible, I can't say I blame Mama for being concerned. I mean, with all the available men in Reno—highly intelligent, rich and handsome men—you're banging some random biker?" Donnie said skeptically.

"Hell yeah I am. Besides, I'm in _California_ , not _Reno_ and I have no interest in anybody here, especially anyone associated with the Family."

"Okay, I get it," Donnie said reasonably. "Rocco was a fucking animal—sorry Gia but I had to say it—but you shouldn't let that worthless piece of shit block you from finding happiness with somebody else."

"Exactly. I'm in full agreement with you," Nico replied, "which is why I've moved on."

"Moved on? _With the biker_?" Donnie took off her sunglasses completely to stare at her sister. "As in a permanent relationship?" she queried.

"I didn't say all that," Nico evaded.

"Well what exactly _are_ you saying?" Gianna asked as she sat up and swung her legs over the lounge chair to face her sisters. "Are you just," she whispered eyeing her children, "doing a little of the nasty?"

"Oh Gawd," Donnie replied dramatically. "Really?" she eyed Gia in disbelief.

"What? I mean we're all grown-ups here, aren't we? I know we don't—well haven't really talked a lot about this kind of thing—but maybe it's high time we did. I mean, I love my Enzo, I really do, but I don't know what I'd do if he were to, er, pass on before me. I know I'd be devastated but a part of me knows that after a while I'd need me some, well, you know, sex. _I have needs,_ and if Nico has needs too I don't see what the big deal is if she goes out and handles it. As long as you don't become somebody's biker bitch on the permanent, I say go for it, girl."

"Well shit," Nico said surprised. "Knock me over with a fuckin' feather why don't you." She raised her hands at Gia's affronted look as she tried to cover her baby bump. "You know you really need to push my niece out so I can have regular conversations with you again."

Getting back to the subject at hand, Donnie spoke over her sister. "So what _is_ the deal with you and this man? Is it just sex or what?"

Nico sighed wondering how she let her big mouth get her into situations. Sighing she ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know," she mumbled. "It could be something more," she finally said and peeping through her lashes felt her heart sink a little at the astounded looks on her sister's faces. "I don't know for certain," she lied.

Donnie sighed and then reached over to pat her sister's arm. "Then maybe you need to figure that out, and until you do, maybe it's best if you let sleeping dogs lie with Mama."

"I think Donnie's right," Gia said as she poured herself a glass of chilled herbal tea from the pitcher that sat on a low table. "There's no need to rile Mama up before you know exactly what you're going to do."

Nico shook her head defiantly. "Ordinarily I'd probably agree with you, but Mama went to Papa with this shit and—"

"Papa knows?" Both women exclaimed. "How did he take it?"

"Surprisingly a lot better than you'd think."

"That's because you're Papa's favorite," Gianna said wisely.

"I am not," Nico said indignantly.

"Uh, we may be housewives but we ain't stupid," Donnie said with a rueful smile. "We know he loves all his kids, but you—he's got a real soft spot for you. You could do all kinds of wrong shit and—"

"—and you always got off easy," Gianna agreed, "which was why we always sent you to ask Papa for stuff that we knew he'd say no to, remember?"

"Yes I do, but that's not important now." Nico sighed. "My concern is that the last thing Papa needs is for Mama to be stirring up the pot with every little family drama that comes down the pike. It's bad enough that he's locked away from his family, we don't need her putting more stress on him with foolishness." She stood up and squared her shoulders. "That's why I'm going to settle this shit once and for all."

The sisters watched as Nico strode towards the stone steps. "I've got a bad feeling about this," Gianna muttered.

"Me too," Donnie agreed.

* * *

Having stormed all over the house and its grounds, which are extensive and questioning every servant she ran into as to her mother's whereabouts, Nico finally located her in the kitchen.

Nico waited patiently as her mother cut loose with a stream of directives to her staff, much like a General giving orders to her troops. One thing could be said about Rosanna Torelli—she knew what she wanted and how she wanted it, and she usually wanted it yesterday and her staff was certainly well aware of the fact. Nico watched as her mother finished her politely worded orders and the staff quickly hurried away to do her bidding.

Turning around, Rosanna finally noticed her daughter in the open doorway. "There you are, Nico. Did you have a good trip to see Gianni? What did he think of Tonio's hair—"

Nico held up a hand interrupting her. "I'm sorry Mama but we can talk about Papa and Tonio's reunion at another time. Right now we need to get some shit squared away between us."

Rosanna sighed aloud theatrically. Wearing a beautiful ivory colored blouse, matching slacks and 5" heels, Rosanna towered over her youngest daughter and looked far younger than her 62 years as she faced her daughter. "So what have I done now?" Rosanna threw up her hands, "except be a loving and caring mother to my children?"

"Why is it you feel the need at every turn to try and control my life? I would have thought that running ragged on Donnie, Gia and Dom would be enough entertainment for you while I was away."

Rosanna raked her fingers through her hair. "And just what have I done to deserve such disrespect?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe going behind my back to try and get Papa involved in some shit he doesn't need to worry about?" Nico crossed her arms as she walked over to her mother. "Especially when he's going through enough stress as it is."

"So I guess this little temper tantrum your throwing has to do with that dirty biker your screwing," Rosanna announced irritably. "Well I'm glad I finally know the truth. Everyone seems to conspire to keep things from me that I have every right to know about. That's why I told Gianni about it, only come to find out that he already _knew_ this shit. All I wanted was for him to get you to see reason. He's the only one who can seem to get through to your stubborn hide."

"Well right now he's the only parent who seems to understand that I'm a grown woman and fully capable of managing my own affairs."

" _Affairs_ , is it?" Rosanna exclaimed. "So there's more than one dirty biker you're having sex with?! _O mio dio_!"

"Why don't you get it?" Nico raged. "I could be fucking the entire MC and _it would have absolutely nothing to do with you_!"

"It has everything to do with me," Rosanna said angrily. "Your father and I don't want you ruining your life over some worthless man that can't take care of you the way—"

"The way an Italian man can?" Nico said irritably. "You mean like Rocco? The man who stepped out on me time and time again, who set up mistresses across the country, fucked underage prostitutes, ran up hundreds of thousands of dollars in gambling debts and was addicted to Cocaine? You mean _that_ Italian man?" Nico's voice was sugary sweet. "Because he really turned out to be a real find Mama. You picked a good one there."

The bullet shot home, it was easy to see the pained expression on Rosanna's features and inwardly Nico winced, ashamed of herself. After all, no one had held a fucking gun to her head.

"All I have ever wanted was for you to be safe," Rosanna said loudly. "For you to be protected. Your father's business—"

"—is what it is, Mama," Nico replied angrily. "It's something I've known about ever since I was 12 and I've managed to handle myself in his world without being treated like a princess. Papa knows I can handle myself. I can't understand why you couldn't understand that. He's always accepted me for who and what I am, but you never could, could you?" Nico raged as she started to pace back and forth. "I was never like Donnie or Gia, could never live up to what you wanted me to be—a good and dutiful Italian mobsters wife." She whirled around to face her mother. "Stupid me, I married Rocco to win your love and affection. Well I tried it your way, Mama and look what it got me. I pushed aside what I knew what was right and in trying to satisfy your crazy ass, not only did I end up married to a man who I never, _ever_ loved, I also ended up with a man who was so fucking power hungry and desperate for money that he tried to assassinate my father, your husband," Nico hissed and watched as the color drained away from her mother's face.

"No," she said shakily. "That can't be true."

"It's true," Nico said coldly. "That son of a motherfucking whore tried to kill your husband and when I found out I did what I had to do. I protected my family and gladly put Rocco out of his fuckin' misery and I'd do it again!"

" _Mio dio_ ," Rosanna gasped, her bejeweled and manicured hands reaching out towards Nico, her eyes wide with shock focusing on a point beyond her daughter's shoulder.

Suddenly, Nico felt a sick feeling of dread come over her, the small hairs on her neck standing on end and whirling around, was slammed with the panic stricken gaze of her son, the damp towel he had used to dry himself off having fallen into a pool at his feet, and in the distance spotted the saddened face of her uncle standing behind his nephew.

"Tonio," Nico croaked, "Baby—baby, I—please—" as she reached out for him.

Shaking his head violently without a word, Tonio turned and shoving his uncle out of the way, ran out of the kitchen.

* * *

**Glossary** **:**

o mio dio: Oh my God

figlia: daughter

mio nipote: my grandson

nonna: grandmother

nonno: grandfather


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada—Tuesday, June 7, 2011** _

Grinding her elliptical to a halt, Nico breathed heavily as her heart, currently pounding in her chest, started to slow down from her strenuous exertions. Picking up the towel that rested on the equipment's handles, she mopped the sweat from her face.

Physically, Nico was in good shape but over the last couple of days, she had increased her exercise routine in the vain hope to escape the demons plaguing her. But it seemed that no matter how hard she tried she could not stop reliving the horrifying incident that had unfolded in her mother's kitchen. In her anger and frustration over her mother's interference in her personal life, Nico had revealed the truth about the attempted murder of Gianni Torelli and how she had exacted justified vengeance by killing the man responsible for ordering his death—Rocco Agnello, her ex-husband.

Neither could Nico eradicate the painful memory of her son's devastated features upon overhearing the shocking news.

Even now as she sank down on one of the low benches in her workout room, she replayed the painful event in her head for the thousandth time.

_"Tonio," Nico croaked, "Baby—baby, I—please—" as she reached out for him._

_Instead, Tonio backed away from her, violently shaking his head as he turned and ran from the kitchen, nearly knocking his great uncle over in his haste and ignoring his calls as well._

_Turning to run after him, Nico was stopped by her uncle who quickly grabbed her by the shoulders._

_"No cara, let me handle this," Jimmy Cacuzza ordered._

_"Zio, let me go," Nico practically begged, struggling violently. "I have to explain—"_

_Shaking her sharply in an effort to ward off the building hysteria he could see welling up inside her, Jimmy held his niece in a firm grip. "I know, sweetheart. But right now I think it's best if you let me handle this. Stay with your mother." Motioning to his sister, Rosanna, trembling with emotion, approached and put her arms around her daughter's quivering body._

_"Get some brandy into her and put her to bed, okay Rosie? And don't let her leave the house." Rosanna nodded her consent as her brother pulled out his cell phone and in rapid fire Italian ordered his men to search the grounds for his grandnephew and to keep him secluded until he got there._

That had been the last time that Nico had seen her son. It had been fortunate that Jimmy had shown up at the compound to touch base with Nico for an update on her visit with her father. Her uncle had in short order found Tonio and had spirited him away. In a daze, Nico had allowed her mother to lead her to her old room. She had poured a substantial amount of brandy in her, added a valium for good measure and had tucked her into bed as if she were a child.

The combination of drugs and alcohol had knocked her out and Nico had slept until the following morning. It had not been a restful sleep as she had been plagued with nightmares in which she relived her ex's last moments on earth. Rocco's own words had come back to haunt her.

_"Then I confess already, all right? I did it. I set up the hit," he moaned in defeat. But you can't kill me, Nico. Think of our son. Think of Tonio."_

_Nico smirked. "As much as I appreciate your confession, as I told you earlier, it's not necessary. Your death is a done deal, Roc. Now whether or not our son learns the truth of your disgraceful downfall, well that depends on you. Give me the names of everyone involved and I'll take to my own grave the fact that you tried to kill Tonio's grandfather."_

_"It's always about your father, ain't it?" Rocco licked his dry lips. "Do you really care so little about how my death will affect our son? That he will grow up without a father?" he pleaded._

_Nico's expression softened momentarily before settling back into hardened lines. "There's no doubt it will be painful for him. In fact, Tonio may never get over your death, I know this," she said solemnly. "But as much as that hurts me as his mother, it is what it is and I have to accept it. There's a price to pay for being a part of this family and that price in unwavering loyalty. No one gets a pass, Rocco. Our son is strong. It'll hurt, but he'll survive your passing."_

_"How do you think Tonio will survive if he ever finds out you made sure I wouldn't get a pass?"_

_"Aside from my father and Uncle Jimmy, only three other people know what's happening here tonight," Nico stated. "And of those three, one won't be alive by sunrise, so I'll take my chances with those odds and bet that Tonio will never find out."_

Now, as she slowly made her way up to her bedroom, Nico was tormented with the realization that Rocco may be right.

 _I thought I was so fucking smart_ , Nico lamented. _I was so sure that I was doing the right thing. That Tonio would never find out the truth and yet I was the stupid motherfucking idiot who let my anger destroy everything._

Entering her master bath, Nico headed straight for the shower and turning it on stepped into the multiple pulsating streams of hot water, not even realizing that she still had on her workout gear. Stripping the sodden clothes off her body, Nico threw them into a corner before sliding to a boneless heap on the floor, and started to sob yet again.

_Two days and I haven't seen my baby._

All that Nico knew for sure was that her uncle had custody of him and that he was safe. With her mother making excuses to her sisters that an unexpected situation had cropped up, forcing Nico's and Tonio's early departure, Nico had remained upstairs in her old bedroom until Donnie and Gia and their children and their friends had departed after dinner. Unwilling to stay with her mother, Nico had woken up the following morning and had returned to her home where she had spent the day crying, worrying and calling her uncle to leave voice messages on his cell which went unreturned.

Finally dragging herself out of the shower, Nico went through the motions of dressing, slipping on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt and sat down on her bed. Contemplating burrowing back under the covers, she was startled when the house phone rang.

Answering it, her tone was apathetic. "Yes Helen?"

_"Ma'am. The gate security just called. Your uncle, Mr. Cacuzza has been admitted, and Tonio is with him," the soft-spoken woman replied._

Leaping to her feet, Nico stammered. "Th—Thank you, Helen. I'll be right down." Slamming the phone down, Nico first ran to her dresser to check her appearance. Her face, bare from cosmetics, looked tired and pale and her hair, although clean and damp, was lackluster as she had forgotten to use any product.

 _To hell with how I look_ , Nico thought. _Tonio is home!_

And leaving her room at a dead run, Nico dashed down the stairs.

* * *

By the time Nico had gotten down the stairs, she could hear the soft spoken tones of her housekeeper and the deeper bass of her uncle. Trying to slow down her rapidly beating heart, Nico smoothed down her wild hair, tugged at the hem of her t-shirt to straighten it as well before walking into the living room.

Standing at the edge of the foyer, stood her housekeeper, her uncle and her son.

"Look whose home, Miss Nico," Helen said quietly.

"Yes I see," Nico said calmly, desperate to keep her emotions in check. She walked over and was embraced by her uncle. "Hi Zio," she whispered.

"Hi _cara_ ," he replied gruffly. "I hope you didn't mind too much that I stole Tonio for a few days," he said, mostly for her housekeeper's benefit.

"No. Not at all." Nico moistened her dry lips. "Hey, ba—Tonio," she said quietly afraid to make a move towards him, fearful of rejection.

"Hey," he replied, his tone solemn—and distant.

The air hummed with tension for a few seconds until Helen cleared her throat. "Well, if you don't mind ma'am, there are some errands I need to make—picking up your dry cleaning and a few other items. If it is all right with you I can take care of that now. I'll only be gone a few hours."

"That would be fine, Helen." Nico replied and watched as the woman headed towards her small office next to the kitchen to retrieve her belongings.

It was Jimmy—who in the absence of the housekeeper—decided to get things moving. He walked into the living room, fully expecting his niece and grandnephew to follow him and headed towards the bar. "My tired old bones could use a rest," he said as he pulled out a heavy crystal tumbler and picked up a decanter of scotch. "Why don't the two of you go outside, maybe sit on that nice patio furniture you have while I kick back in the air-conditioning. It's too hot for me. Give you some time to talk," he encouraged.

"I'd like that," Nico said quietly. "How about you Tonio?" she asked.

Her son's figure spoke volumes. His tall frame was stiff, his back ramrod straight. With fists shoved into the pockets of his low riding cargo pants, and a tight tank top that showed off his slender but muscled frame, Nico realized that her son wasn't a little boy anymore and the fear that she was going to lose him forever nearly broke her heart.

After a long moment he finally spoke. "Okay."

Nico looked at her uncle who looked at her reassuringly. Mouthing at her "You got this," he slowly ambled over to the couch and sitting down watched his niece and her son leave him behind.

Jimmy sighed as he lifted the tumbler of scotch to his lips and drank deeply.

 _If anyone can fix this shit, I know cara can_.

* * *

Although it was very hot, with the surrounding trees and the shade that was available from the structure of the house, the lanai was cool and breezy. Having checked the security system in the kitchen to confirm that Helen's car had left the premises, the two of them headed outside. Nico was unsure as to what the outcome of their discussion would be and the subject matter was of such a delicate nature that she needed to be sure that there were no witnesses to the quite likely explosive conversation.

Approaching a large group of stylish and comfortable outdoor furniture, Nico sat down in the corner of a loveseat and watched as her son sat down in the opposite corner as he stretched out his long legs. As he turned to her, she could see him bracing himself for the discussion they were about to have. Unlike his father who would often beat around the bush during intense arguments, Tonio got straight to the point.

"Is it true?" he demanded.

Nico moistened her lips. "Is what true?"

"You know what," Tonio shot back, his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

Nico ordered herself to snap out of it. Now was not the time to lose her shit. "Tonio, this discussion is going to be difficult enough. I don't want any misunderstandings, so I think it's best that we be as clear as possible and I can't properly answer you until I'm sure of the question."

"That's the lawyer in you talking. I thought I was talking to my _mom_."

"You are, but sometimes it's hard to separate the two. So speak your mind."

Turning to face her, Tonio folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. "Is it true what you told Nonna," he said bitterly. "That—that Dad tried to kill Nonno and that you—you 'gladly put him out of his fucking misery'?"

 _Ah Jesus_ , Nico wanted to cry as she looked into the resentful blue eyes, so incredibly like her own. But she was a Torelli and she wasn't going to hide what she was from her only son—not any more.

"Yes. It's true. Your father plotted and schemed to have your grandfather assassinated," Nico said calmly and evenly. "He brokered the hit, paid for it and gave the order to have him shivved in prison."

Nico's heart sank in her chest as she watched her son's face as he tried to process the fact that his father was a murderer. The confusion, anger and pain was rampant on his features and all Nico wanted to do was to wrap her arms around him and pull him down onto her lap so she could comfort him.

But she couldn't help but be proud of him as he pulled himself together. Her son's lips trembled and then firmed into a thin, hard line before he spoke again. "So the story that Dad was kidnapped and killed by some bookies in Vegas because of bad gambling debts was a lie. He never did any of that shit, did he?" Tonio said accusingly.

Hating to shatter her son's illusions that maybe his father had had some redeeming qualities, Nico had no other choice but to destroy all of his futile hopes. "No. The bad gambling debts, drugs, prostitutes—all the dirty shit that the family discovered that your father was into after his death—all that shit was _real_. I simply used his vices as a smokescreen." Nico shrugged her shoulders. "In the business of running an organization like the family, the key to a good lie is sometimes a very careful manipulation of the truth."

"So you were never in any real danger? So when word came back that Dad had been taken and you were missing and hours later you show up all beat to shit—you did that shit to fool us all! _To fool me_!" Tonio jumped up from his chair to stalk around angrily. "I was terrified that I was never going to see you again and you played us—played me for a fucking idiot!"

Nico jumped up and ran to him, putting her hands on his shoulder to turn him to face her and took his face into her hands. "I know baby," she said brokenly, "and I'm so, _so_ sorry, but I had to think of the good of the family. It was what I've been trained to do and it was what was needed. I hated doing that to you, but I _had_ to make shit look legit. There couldn't be any room for error, otherwise the family would have been exposed to threats on all sides—not just the cops looking to solve the murder, but any of the other families. Rocco's death could have provided a weak opening for them to exploit—to make a move on our territory. I had to protect what was ours. Your grandfather would expect nothing less."

Nico watched as her son ran his hand through his hair and tugged at it violently. Swiping at the tears raining down on her face, her heart ached at the pain her son was feeling.

"Did you—did you actually do it. Kill him, I mean?" Tonio choked out.

"No," Nico shook her head. "But I won't lie. I wanted to." At her son's look of shock at her admission, she continued. "Your father had _nothing_ when he first came to Nevada. He had to work his way up through the organization like everyone else, but your grandfather took a liking to him. He treated Rocco like a son when he befriended Dom and took him under his wing, gave him prestige, a position above others who had been with the family for far longer than Roc had, and all because he saw something in him. Your grandfather walked my ass down an aisle in a church and gave him my hand in marriage. When he went to prison, your grandfather made Roc the Acting Boss above Dom, his only son, and your uncles, and how did he repay my father's love, loyalty and generosity?" Nico said forcefully. "He tried to MURDER him! Tried to take the family by trickery and deceit! Had your Nonno died, your father would have stood at his gravesite crying all the crocodile tears in the world and then sat back and 'graciously' accepted being made the new Don. And for what?! All he had to do was to be patient and wait until either Papa got out of prison or worse, passed away. With Dom happily ready to reject taking Papa's place, Rocco would have easily supplanted Dom as the head of the family, clean and above board."

Nico walked back to the loveseat and sat down hard, running a hand through her hair before she looked up into her son's eyes. "But instead the greedy, selfish, hateful bastard couldn't wait his turn. If he had been successful—had he actually killed Papa, there isn't anything that I wouldn't have done to make his last moments on this earth a far more painful one than he experienced." Nico breathed deeply. "In the days and weeks after your Nonno was attacked, I worked diligently to discover the truth. It was difficult, painstaking and tedious but I was successful." Nico laughed bitterly. "I was so sure that it was some two bit thug looking to make his mark from some other family—maybe one of the Fab Five out of the East Coast looking to make a power play. But nothing— _nothing_ —prepared me for the truth: that the man I married, slept with and created a beautiful child with tried to kill the man that I love the most, my knight in shining armor. So fuck letting the men in the family, _the Syndicate_ end this shit in the only way that it could. I _had_ to do it myself. I _had_ to be the one to get rid of the piece of shit that had betrayed my father, betrayed me and our family, especially considering that if your father could go to the lengths that he did to kill Papa, then _nobody_ was safe, not Dom, not me, not even _you_. So I did what I had to do."

"So you—" Tonio said quietly.

"Handled it. All the planning, the payoffs, everything but the actual execution," Nico said baldly. "But I was there."

"You watched—"

"I _needed_ to be sure that it was done and that the bastard wouldn't come back from the dead. Typical Roc—he tried to talk his way out of it, try to buy off the man who I secured to do the hit, but he couldn't be bought. Once I made it crystal clear that I had proof, even he knew it was over." Nico sighed.

Tonio shoved his fists into the pockets of his pants. "Did he really suffer?" he asked.

"It wasn't quick or pain free. He deserved that much for the pain that Papa experienced. It would have been a lot more had not the attack brought to the light the fact that your grandfather has cancer. That early detection was a result of the attack and will hopefully get him early compassionate leave so that he can return to his loving family and live a long happy life, and if I have anything to do with it, it will happen." Nico held out a hand. "Come here baby," she said softly.

For a long moment Tonio stood silently, his face a mask of rage and anguish before he walked towards her. Avoiding her hand, he sat down on the opposite end of the loveseat, the space between them seeming as wide as a chasm in the Grand Canyon.

Nico's heart ached, but she refused to give into more tears. "I can't even comprehend how difficult this must be for you. Do you remember when I first told you about what the family did for a living?"

"Yeah, I remember. It was just before I left for boarding school."

"I told you the truth—at least—what I felt I could tell you, because I knew that you would be able to handle it. I knew you were aware of all of the legitimate shit we own—the casinos, nightclubs and restaurants, the construction and sanitation businesses—but I thought you didn't know the other side. The nasty underbelly of family—the criminal enterprise identified by those in law enforcement as the Torelli Syndicate—and how it operates. The only thing that surprised me was how surprised I was that you had figured shit out. You remember that?" she said with a small smile and watched as a tentative one crept over his features.

"Yeah," Tonio said quietly, his eyes alight with amusement for the first time since they had started talking. "I thought you were going to fall over when I said our shit seemed to be way more impressive than _The Sopranos_."

Nico chuckled quietly. "It is. But it has its ugly moments Tonio, moments that you've never seen and that I didn't want you to know about. That was the reason I pushed for you to go to boarding school. When your father and I first broached the topic with you, while he reluctantly backed me up, you're going away was all my idea," Nico admitted.

"But why? I loved living at home with you. I mean Dad wasn't around a lot, but Uncle Dom was always there and we had great times. I didn't have to leave."

"Yes you did, baby boy. I wanted—needed—you to be able to make the right choice about the life you wanted to live. This crazy life isn't for everyone. I've spent more than my fair share in it and I can tell you, living the life of a criminal isn't all that it's cracked up to be. It's a grimy, dirty, shitty life and there are too many lawmen who want to make a career-making bust by bringing down a criminal organization like ours. Ever since I passed the Bar, I've spent my career trying to shore up the legitimate side of the business, helping to expand its borders, creating charitable foundations, troubleshooting the 'gray areas' of the business—all in an effort to show the family that we can make more money hand over fist legitimately than by all the under-the-table shit we do."

"Then why not do it?" Tonio asked reasonably, his eyes alight with interest.

"Because the family is made up of a bunch of made men who don't like _anyone_ dictating to them what they can and can't do to make a buck. Running illegal gambling dens, extortion, prostitution—it's what they _do_. They like bucking the government. Paying taxes," Nico snorted, "to them that shit is for suckers and ordinary people, not them. And ultimately that will be their downfall because eventually the law catches up with them and that bill becomes due and they have to pay it, either with their lives or their freedom—like your grandfather is doing right now. Some enterprises realize the futility of it," Nico smiled faintly as she thought of Jax Teller, "while others, believe they are invincible. I don't want you to end up in prison. I want you to be free and happy, but I also realize that you have to be the one to make that choice. So that's why I pushed for you to go to boarding school. I wanted you to see that there is more to life than being a Don, that you can choose to be the head of a business empire, or start your own—that you don't have to be tied to the family like your uncle is now."

Nico reached over to her son and gently placed a hand on his knee and sighed inwardly with relief when her touch wasn't rejected. "I know that this is a lot to wrap your head around, but you're going to have to find a way to deal with what the Syndicate is, and what you want to do with your life. And there's one other thing that no one but you can decide." She stood up.

"What's that?"

"You're going to have to come to grips with what I have done in the name of protecting the family and decide whether or not you can ever forgive me for it," she said softly. "So go with your uncle and take some time to think."

Nico turned and headed back to the French doors but turned back to face her bewildered son.

"I'll be waiting for you."

* * *

_**Wednesday, June 8, 2011** _

Antonio Victor Agnello was tired. It wasn't like he had never experienced the feeling of exhaustion after participating in some sort of exercise or playing and roughhousing with his cousins and schoolmates, but what he had undergone over the last few days was a different type of exhaustion. It was as if mentally he had his strength literally sapped from him.

Walking into the kitchen of his grandmother's home to discover his mother arguing with his Nonna was not a new occurrence and initially he had been prepared to jostle the two of them out of their funk, like he often did, to get them back in a good mood.

But hearing the tone of the harsh words and discerning the difference, Tonio had walked into the conversation despite his uncle trying to prevent him—trying to brush the commotion off as nothing more than the same old shit—but it quickly started to dawn on him that something was seriously wrong.

He remembered the shock of his mother's words going over him like a wave of icy cold water and he literally felt like he was drowning in its depths. Seeing his mother's stricken face as she realized that he had overheard every word, and the absolute panic he had felt at her betrayal of his father had sent him off on a dead run.

It had taken a couple of Uncle Jimmy's soldiers to catch his ass and to bring him before his uncle. His anger had literally erupted and the older man had received the brunt of it.

If the love Tonio had for his grandparents and extended family members was strong, it was nothing compared to the love that he had for his mother. As far as he was concerned, Nicoletta Antonia Torelli walked on water. That was how highly he regarded the woman who had given birth to him. She was an intelligent, beautiful and absolutely fucking loyal woman.

And now, as far as Tonio was now concerned, she was also a ruthless, stone cold killer.

And he had spewed all of that ugly truth onto his uncle. If there was nothing that Tonio would never forget, however, it was the absolute fire of the older man as he forcefully raised his voice and lambasted Tonio for all of the ugly things he had said in his anger about his mother, and he had recoiled at the harsh words.

Jimmy Cacuzza had quickly shut him down, ordered one of his men to retrieve his clothing from the pool house and had taken him to one of the family's rental properties that they used for out of town associates and guests of the family. There, Jimmy had laid out some firm hard truths that Tonio about what it means to be a Torelli, after which he had been left alone with his thoughts to try and get a handle on his family history.

When Jimmy had told him that he had sulked long enough and that he was taking him home to talk to his mother, Tonio had wanted to rebel but eyeing the stone-faced man, he had had second thoughts. Instead he acquiesced and had finally met with his mother and having heard her side of the story, he had been given a few days to figure out how to process it.

It seemed, however, that he had only needed one.

Now as he walked through the lower level of his home, he made a beeline towards his mother's room and he was concerned. His mother was not a slugabed, so if she was still resting and it was nearly noon, Tonio realized that she was in a really bad way.

Opening the door quietly, Tonio bit his lip. His mother—a small woman to begin with—was curled up in a barely visible lump in the huge bed, the heavy comforter pulled up nearly over her head.

He was about to pull the door closed when he heard the sniffling.

 _Oh shit_ , he thought miserably, and pushed the door open and closed it quietly behind him. Moving quickly, as he got closer to the bed Tonio could see the quivering of his mother's shoulders from her muffled sobs.

Kicking off his sneakers, Tonio got up on the bed and pulling his startled mother into his arms began to rock her back and forth.

"Mama, please don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His words, instead of comforting her, only made her cry harder. Barely able to make out the words, Tonio's own eyes welled up with tears as he caught her words. "It's my fault. I—I'm the one that messed shit up," she gasped.

"No you didn't," he said forcefully as he reached over and grabbed a bunch of Kleenex and handed it to her. "Dad did," he said quietly and watched as she froze, her red-rimmed eyes searching his own.

"I get it," he said softly. "I may not like the reality of it, but I get it." Tonio watched as his mother struggled to sit up and face him.

"Baby, I never wanted you to find out, at least," she grimaced, "not like this. That _was_ my fault. I lost my temper with your grandmother. She was interfering in something that didn't concern her and I let my emotions get the better of me. For that, I'm truly sorry." Nico reached up to caress her son's cheek and was gratified when he took her hand in his own and kissed the back of it softly.

"I know…but…where do we go from here?" he asked plaintively.

"Well that's the question, isn't it?" Suddenly she frowned. "Wait a minute…how did you get here? Is Zio here?"

"No. He had some business to handle so I got one of his guys to give me a ride. The gate out front was unmanned so I used the security code to come in. I left him downstairs. I saw Helen wasn't around so I looked everywhere until I found you."

"You shouldn't have left without letting Zio know," she chastised.

"I know. But I really needed to see you and I didn't want to wait because I was afraid I wouldn't see you before I left. Uncle Enzo and Alberto are going to take all of the guys up to the cabin tomorrow."

Nico blew her nose furiously one last time before tossing the used tissues on her night stand. "When was this decided?" she asked.

"Yesterday. I think Uncle Jimmy arranged it. I pretty sure he didn't tell the uncles why, but I think he knows I need some time not thinking about all this shit, you know?"

Nico nodded. "He's like that, Zio. Always looking out for his family."

"Just like you. Even if you have to do some really hard shit." Tonio eyes started to tear up. "I just don't get it. I mean, how could Dad do this shit?" he said brokenly. "I'm so fucking mad at him…but is it wrong that I still love the bastard?"

Pulling him into an embrace, Tonio lay across his mother's lap and wept bitter tears, his mother doing the same.

"It's all right to mourn the man—the father that he was to you, if not the man that he truly was." Nico slowly stroked her son's curls. "There's no shame in that and I won't ever hold that shit against you baby." She sighed heavily. "I think your father got twisted up inside. I think part of it was my fault."

"How is that even possible? He did this shit."

"Yes, but maybe I could have helped him. After you left for school, we spent less and less time in each other's company. I was focused on building up the corporate infrastructure of the business, all while troubleshooting issues for our other businesses. I started to realize how much time I was spending alone and I liked it." Nico paused. "You know how much I love you don't you baby?"

"Yeah, I do."

Nico caressed his cheek softly. "I will never, _ever_ regret marrying your father because he gave me _you_ , but now that you weren't around and we didn't have to put on a pretense that the relationship was solid, I could come to terms with the fact that our marriage was basically over. I never really loved your father—at least, not in the way that I should have to marry him. I became aware that he wasn't faithful to me and I was okay with it because it meant that he wasn't bothering my ass. He was still your father and on some level I wanted to try and preserve our family.

"When I finally decided to get the divorce—well, your Nonna and your aunts weren't too thrilled with me, but I had Dom's support and Papa's so I pushed ahead. But now as I look back on it, I wonder if my divorcing Roc was the catalyst that set this shit off. Maybe he was fearful that now there was no longer a marital tie binding us that the possibility of him becoming the next Don was in jeopardy."

"And that was why he did what he did?"

"I think so. Also, too, your father's vices were catching up with him. I realized that he started dabbling with cocaine recreationally a little more than usual soon after you left for school. Instead of confronting him about it, I let it slide. If there is one thing my father wouldn't tolerate it was drugs and Roc knew it, which was why he kept that shit on the down low, but I thought he would keep that shit in check. Papa, being who he is, knew about it eventually, but had given him a pass. The drugs eventually became more than just a past time and I think that led him down the road to make some really bad decisions. If I hadn't been so happy to get away from his ass and had tried to help him, convinced him to go into a private rehab, maybe Roc wouldn't have crossed the line. Ultimately, your father chose to do what he did and I'm not trying to absolve him of that. I never will, but these last few days made me realize that maybe I could have done something to prevent it…and I didn't. In the end, I had to clean shit up and in doing so I deprived you of a father…and I can never replace him. I can't ever give your father back."

"And I wouldn't want you to," Tonio said resolutely. "He was a grown ass man. He knew what he was doing. Nobody forced him to do the shit he did, whether it was snorting coke, gambling, cheating on you…or planning to kill Nonno.

"As far as him being my Dad—I won't forget him. Maybe one day I can find a way to forgive him for what he did, but I can tell you that I forgive you right now because I know that if I was ever in the same situation, I would kill _anyone_ who tried to hurt you. Mama. I will always love you and I'm with you—ride or die."

Wrapping her arms around him, Nico gave her son a fierce hug, pulling away to fervently give him the traditional kisses on both cheeks. "And I love you too, baby," she said emotionally. "I don't ever want you to forget that, but it's not going to be an easy road for you, now that you know the truth."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Only your grandparents and Zio, and a couple of trusted associates who were helpful in dealing with your father."

"Not even Uncle Dom knows?" he said incredulously.

"No, Tonio, and he can't know, at least not now. Your uncle has a great task in watching over our family and we can't have him distracted from what he needs to do. The rest of the family knows nothing and that is the way it needs to stay until I say otherwise. You understand?"

Tonio nodded. "I get it."

"I know this is difficult but for now, I need you to try and put this out of your mind. I think it's a good thing you're going away. I know we were supposed to do a lot of shit together this week, but I think you need this time to clear away all the noise in your head. When you come back, I think it's good that you spend the next few weeks with Nonna and the rest of the family. It will give you some time to think about your future and whether or not you want to come back home for good or to go back to boarding school. Then, when you've had enough of the family squabbling, you can come and spend a week with me in California before you meet up with Mathias' family. Spending the rest of your summer vacation in Spain with your schoolmate will be a real treat and you won't have to think about all this shit. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds like a good plan," he said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "But—"

"But what?"

"What about you and Nonna? Will you work things out? You two said some pretty mean shit to each other."

Nico sighed heavily. _My son has a knack for stating the obvious._

Nico reached up to smooth his rumpled hair. "Don't you worry Tonio," Nico promised. "I'm sure shit will work itself out eventually."

_At least I hope so._

* * *

_**Thursday, June 9, 2011** _

The bright Nevada sun shone through the skylight in Nico's living room as well as the large pane of windows facing the front of the home, fully illuminating the living room and its two occupants.

Sitting next to her mother, Nico carefully observed her mother's appearance. She was dressed as beautifully as usual but today's ensemble of was more subdued than her usual taste. Having answered the call from the security gate advising that her mother was requesting entrance, Nico had been surprised. Rosanna Torelli wasn't the type of woman to wait to be admitted anywhere and typically was known to browbeat the security guard to let her in, usually without announcing her arrival onto the property.

Sighing, she had given her consent to let her mother pass, figuring that if she didn't she would only be courting her own murder. Instead she braced herself for what was surely going to be a disheartening episode where her mother took her to task for the fiasco that had erupted a few days earlier.

Inviting her mother to sit down, Nico had gone into the kitchen and prepared a pot of her mother's favorite tea before bringing it on a tray and sitting it down on the coffee table, sitting on the sofa next to her. Belatedly realizing that she probably should have had at least one stiff brandy from the hidden cache in the kitchen, Nico waited patiently for her mother to start the ass ripping.

"I probably should have called first, but Giacomo, he told me that you managed to patch things up with Tonio this morning, so I decided to come by."

Picking up the French Press, Nico poured the coffee—her mother's favorite dark roast blend from Italy that she kept on hand—into two fine bone china cups. "I figured that you would," she replied wryly. "Mama, you are nothing if not consistent."

"Well, you might be surprised, this time around," Rosanna said quietly as she sat next to her daughter on the sofa, her hands clasped together on her lap. "I need you to do something."

Nico inhaled and exhaled long before straightening her shoulders, bracing herself for what she was sure would be the start of a long diatribe on how bad a mother she was. "What's that Mama?" she said resigned to the verbal beating she was sure she quite rightfully deserved.

"It's something I don't really deserve, but I'm going to ask for it anyway," her mother said simply. "I need you to forgive me."

For a moment, Nico was truly stunned. "For—forgive you?" she stuttered. "For what?"

Rosanna sighed heavily, her fingers tightly entwined and started to play with her rings—a nervous habit that Nico had rarely seen from her mother. "Because all of this shit lands on me. It's all my fault."

"Mama—" Nico started, but was cut off.

"No. You be quiet for once and listen to me," Rosanna ordered before sighing deeply. "Of all of my children, you are the most like your father. You are strong-willed, but level-headed and intelligent and I know, despite all the lies your father tells right to my very face, that _you_ are his favorite. When your father finally admitted that he told you the truth of his business when you were a child, I was so angry at him. He was so proud of you, that you had sussed the truth out and still loved him regardless. _That_ was when I really started pushing you to be more like your sisters. The truth was that I was fearful for you, of what you could become."

"Why?" Nico said, stunned.

"Because I knew that if there was one woman who could breach the males-only inner sanctum and could run your father's business, I knew it would be you," her mother admitted. "And I knew there would be men who would be threatened by you stepping out of your role as a wife and mother—afraid of you strapping on a pair of balls _they don't have_ and who'd want to make an example of you. A woman stepping out of her place in our society could end up hurt or worse, dead—just so they could keep the rest of us _femmine_ in line. Why do you think I pushed you so hard to be nothing more than a good Italian wife?" Rosanna chastised.

"I thought it was because I was a such disappointment to you," Nico whispered. "I was nothing like Gia and Donnie."

"Nico, you could _never_ be a disappointment to me. Now I'm going to tell you something, and if you _ever_ repeat this to your siblings, I will deny it completely. Dom is my son and I love him dearly, and I love your sisters just as equally, but you, _you,_ Nico are _my heart_ ," Rosanna whispered, her eyes moist as she focused on her stunned daughter as she reached out to grasp both of her hands with her own. "You are just like your father, so fierce, proud, and strong. You love your family hard and would do anything to make them happy, even listen to your old harpy of a mother when I pushed for you to marry that _bastardo_ of a man, just because you loved me. I knew it. I _played_ on your emotions of wanting my approval to get you to do it. I'll admit it," Rosanna said shamefaced as she swiped away an errant tear. "But I figured if Rocco could keep your ass barefoot and pregnant, you wouldn't get any delusions of grandeur, not try to use that big brain you got from your father and that damn law degree that you just _had_ _to have_ —just stay out of the family business and be _safe._ That was more important to me than what you wanted, and in the end, not only were you _not_ safe, but your father was nearly killed all because of my interfering old ass," Rosanna started to sob.

"Mama, Mama, please," Nico crooned as tears sprouted and ran down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her mother's heaving shoulders. "Don't cry. It's not your fault. You meant well—"

Her mother shook her head vehemently. "I _always_ mean well. I _always_ know the right thing to do. That's what a mother always tells herself even when she's knows she's fucked it up."

"Shit. I guess I know how that feels now," Nico replied. As they looked at each other, tears running down their faces, mussed hair and smeared makeup, they both started to laugh. They laughed long and hard as they leaned on each other for support.

Finally managing to catch her breath, Rosanna wheezed. "Well, this is something—you and I on the same page, huh?"

"Yeah," Nico agreed as she grabbed a box of Kleenex from the coffee table. Taking a handful, she offered them to her mother before grabbing some for herself and attempted to clean herself up. "I think we need to remember this day. It's an important one. It might not happen again for another 20 years." The two started to chuckle again.

Blowing her nose heartily Rosanna managed to get her bearings. "We two are a mess, aren't we?"

Nico nodded. "Agreed. She sighed. "Just when you think you know someone—"

"You find out you didn't really know them at all," Rosanna finished.

"Mama, I never would have thought—that is—you always seemed so," Nico shrugged, "above all the shit that Papa was involved in. The way you acted, it was like you had no clue what was going on and I couldn't understand how you and the girls could just blithely ignore—"

"Reality?" Rosanna said. "I put on a show, yes. I didn't want my children to really understand our way of life. I had long resigned myself to the type of man my Gianni is and despite all the shit that he has done for his family and the way he earns I will always love him. But as a mother I had to find a balance, a way to keep our children protected from the ugly things that we do. It was the way I was taught by my mother, and her mother before her. I didn't know any other way. It was easy enough to keep Donnie and Gia unaware—at least until your father got arrested, but you—you—" Rosanna pinched her daughter's arm and smiled in satisfaction at her startled yelp of surprise. "You were too damn smart for your own good. Too interested in spending time with your father, always asking him about what he did and who he was with and the endless why, why, why, all the time. He was so proud of you. You were questioning him from time you could speak."

Nico smiled. "I was curious."

"Too curious," Rosanna said sharply and then rolled her eyes. "Too much like me," she muttered.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you," Nico kidded.

" _Abbastanza_ ," she said irritably and then sighed. "So what now, _cara_. How did you handle this situation with Tonio? How is he, really?"

"We've talked. I couldn't have done it without Zio laying the groundwork first. It wasn't easy, but I gave him full disclosure," Nico watched as her mother frowned. "I know, that's a lot of shit to dump on a teenage boy, but there was no help for it. Tonio needed to know everything so that he could reason it out for himself."

"That's a lot of information for my grandbaby to handle."

"Baby? I thought you said he was a man," Nico teased a little.

"He's still a baby," Rosanna said wistfully, "although this shit has probably ended his childhood for good."

"Well he has a lot to think about over the summer," Nico said, "and he's going to need all of it to sort out the noise in his head. That's why it's good that he stays here with you and his cousins in Reno. He's aware that what he knows is a closely guarded secret and is not to be discussed with anyone other than Zio and you and he understands why—to protect the family."

"So you're telling me that not even Dom knows?" Rosanna was aghast as Nico nodded her head.

"Papa decided that it was best for now and I agreed. Dom was going to have so much to deal with in learning the business. It was bad enough he had to find out that the man he considered his friend was a piece of shit. For him to find out that he tried to have Papa killed to take over as the new Don?" Nico's gaze was resolute. "He can't know that, not now. He's in a fragile state now and he needs to focus on running the family."

"All of these secrets aren't good, Nico."

"I know, but it's the hand that we've been dealt, so we have to play it out."

"And that _bastardo_ really—"

"Yes. And Rocco wasn't operating on his own either." At Rosanna's stricken gaze, Nico hurriedly tried to settle her. "It wasn't some huge plot, Mama, but there were two others involved that we know of and some of their underlings. One has been handled and the other will soon be disposed of. The rest we will deal with as well. Then I'll feel safe enough for Tonio to come home permanently—if that is what he wants."

"And in the meantime?"

"We continue as we have before all this shit started," Nico said tiredly. "Dom continues to run the business, and build relationships with the other under bosses and capos and I stay in Charming out of his way and let him sink or swim. He's swimming, Mama and as long as he keeps focused he'll continue to do so. But you can help him."

"How?"

"Keep him stress free, which means," Nico held up a finger, "no more ragging on his ass about who and when he's gonna marry and give you grandbabies. He doesn't need that shit now. When we get Papa out of prison and his health is back on track, hopefully Dom can turn the business back over to Papa and then," Nico smiled craftily, "you can have at him, but not before. Understand?"

"All right, I'll do my part," Rosanna said dramatically. "But what will you be doing?"

"Working in Charming, just like I've been doing for the past couple of months."

Rosanna crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her daughter. "And what about that biker?"

"Mama—"

"I can't help worrying. You're a mother. You know how it is."

"That I do," Nico sighed. "Exactly what do you want to know and Mama, if you ask me some crazy shit you might learn more than you want to hear."

Rosanna hesitated then shrugged her shoulders. "Is he a good man?"

"Yes…and no. He's good where it counts."

"What's he look like?"

"He's a sexy beast," Nico smirked and snickered as her mother rolled her eyes.

"Would your father like him?"

Nico smiled broadly. "Yes, I do believe he would."

"Oh shit," Rosanna muttered. _I'm gonna get a biker for a son-in-law_ _and I'm sure he's not even Italian_!

"Mama," Nico said in a warning voice.

"I can't help it," she exclaimed. "You're my child. I'm always going to be an interfering old bitch. It's simply my nature. All a mother ever wants is for her child to have what she has—a wonderful man like my Gianni in a good, solid relationship," Rosanna pouted.

 _And I want that too_ , Nico wanted to say and pulled back. _It all depends on whether or not Happy wants it too. But I don't dare say shit to Mama as the last thing I need is her trying to order a hit on my man_. "Mama, we've made a lot of progress today. Don't spoil it," Nico cautioned.

"Okay, okay. Fine. Go ahead, screw the biker. I won't say another word."

Nico waited for a beat. Then two. "You really mean it," she said, incredulous.

"I guess I know you're going to do what you want anyway so I might as well give up. Just one thing, baby."

"What's that?"

"Be safe. As much as I would love another grandchild, I don't think this is a way to go about it."

Thinking of her tied tubes, Nico grinned. "I don't think that's ever gonna be a problem. I promise."

Rosanna patted her knee and decided to change the subject. "So, Giacomo tells me that Tonio is going to join his uncles and the rest of my grandsons up at the cabin. I know you wanted to spend the rest of the week with Tonio before you went back to California, but I think it will be good for him, don't you?"

Nico thought about the huge property that was situated on Lake Tahoe. It was a large family retreat with plenty of outdoor activities. With jet skis and mountain bikes, camping equipment, and a variety of manly sports, Tonio would hopefully work out what remaining stress and aggression he had experienced over the weekend.

"No, I agree with you. All that crisp, fresh air will do him a world of good."

"And he's not the only one who needs a little time to herself," Rosanna advised as Nico looked at her with askance. "After all, this drama hit you pretty hard. I think you need to unwind a little. A little alone time just for you might be just the thing."

Nico considered her mother's advice. "It's not a bad idea."

"Maybe you can go to that spa you like," Rosanna said helpfully. "I wish I and your sisters could go with you, but with the big charity festival and auction that we are throwing for the Archdiocese for the benefit of the St. Thomas' Orphanage this weekend, it's not possible. Unless you would like to help out—" Rosanna paused.

Nico held up a hand and shook her head violently. "Mama, the last thing I want to do is to have the Bishop's disapproving stare on my ass for three straight days. He's been pissed at me ever since I got divorced from Rocco, especially when you consider the fact that he married us in the first place. He barely tolerated me at Christina's confirmation and was only mildly sympathetic towards me as he conducted Rocco's funeral."

"You know, I can't stand his sanctimonious ass either," Rosanna said with a wry chuckle, "but don't tell your sisters I said that. Anyway, you are right. It won't be fun in the least, but maybe you can find a way to entertain yourself for a few days before leaving Reno. At the very least get some shit off your chest with someone you can trust." She watched as a sparkle of interest entered her daughter's blue eyes.

"You know that's not a bad idea."

* * *

**Glossary**

_abbastanza_ enough

 _bastardo_ bastard

 _femmine_ bitches


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

* * *

_**Charming, California—Friday, June 10, 2011** _

"I'm not so sure this is a great idea, babe," Jax said as he watched Marlowe rearrange the contents of the SUV's trunk.

"What's not great about it? You and your brothers go on runs all the time. Now's it's time for us old ladies to hit the road and cut loose a little," Marlowe said cheekily as she rearranged Lyla's three pieces of luggage. "Damn girl," she shouted over her shoulder to the woman who was currently being smothered by her old man's lips. "Wha'dya do? Pack your entire wardrobe? This shit is heavy. It's only a weekend."

Marlowe watched as Lyla finally came up for air, her eyes sparkling with passion before she shook her head violently to shake it off. Wriggling out of her old man's embrace, she joined Marlowe at the back of car. "I just packed the essentials," she insisted. "I have a number of different looks depending on whether we'll be hanging by the pool, shopping, sightseeing or going clubbing."

"Clubbing?" Opie scoffed as he folded his powerful arms across his broad chest and eyed his old lady belligerently. "Who said anything about clubbing? _I_ didn't hear shit about my old lady going 'clubbing'."

"Girl, _ixnay_ on the _ubbingclay_ ," Marlowe muttered meaningfully. Eyeing the behemoth, she raised her voice. "Besides, haven't you heard Ope: What happens in Vegas . . . " she trailed off meaningfully.

"You ain't going to Vegas, you're going to fuckin' Reno," Happy said irritably. "And I agree with my Prez. Ain't no reason for you two to be going off, especially since Tiny was supposed to have had her ass back in town today. And I still haven't heard shit about why she's still there either."

"Well, don't ask me. I don't know shit," Marlowe lied with a straight face. " What I _do_ know is that it's about to be _on._ I haven't had a weekend out with the girls in . . . well _never_ , and as a former sailor I plan to enjoy the hell outta being on shore leave and I advise my old man to have some fun while I'm gone." She slammed the trunk of the car down and turned to face the group and wrapped her arms around her old man's waist. "Just make sure you don't have _too_ good a time without me," she whispered. "I'd hate to put my KA-BAR to use and slice up a couple of croweaters when I get back."

Jax rested his large hands on her bubble butt and squeezed it gently. "Marley, you know you have nothing to worry about with me, but I can't say the same about you running loose in Reno. Maybe Hap is right. You should at least take a prospect with you—" he started.

"What for? So he can monitor our every move and try to protect us from nonexistent danger?" Marlowe snarked. "Totally not necessary babe." She reached down and pulled her KA-BAR out of her combat boot and waved it in the air. "This puppy here is all the protection I'll ever need, but to err on the side of caution, I packed the Beretta you gave me in my backpack, so don't worry." She grinned and winked at Opie." I'll keep your old lady safe."

"That's right. Marlowe's got this," Lyla piped up. "Baby, what you need to be concerned with is not destroying our house and making sure our kids don't end up at St. Thomas while we're gone or you really _will_ have some shit to deal with when I get back."

"Ditto on that," Marlowe agreed.

"Don't worry," Gemma said as she joined the group. "I'll be keeping a close eye on everybody. Just make sure that you," she pointed to Lyla, "make Marlowe wear a couple of those items I bought that she's never worn."

"What items?" Jax asked over Lyla's reply of "Will do."

"Nothing for you to worry about," Marlowe said as she planted a firm kiss on his mouth. "Now where's my baby. I need to say goodbye."

Abel Teller was a very intuitive boy. Despite his mother being out of his hearing, Abel jumped off one of the swings, and made a beeline across the lot, with Wayne Unser jogging nimbly after him.

"Hey Mommy," he said as his mother bent down to scoop him up. "Are you going bye now?" he pouted.

"See babe? You're abandoning your son," Jax said, trying to use his son in a final gambit to get his old lady to stay the fuck home.

Ignoring her old man, Marlowe bent to rub noses with her son. "Yes baby, but don't worry," as she noted his lip quivering. "I'm only going to be away for a couple of days with Auntie Lyla and Miss Nico and then we'll be back really soon. I promise."

Cocking his head to the side, Abel observed her with a crafty gleam in his eye. "You gonna bring me a present?" he asked hopefully.

"You betcha."

"And one for Uncle Touchy too?" he asked generously.

Amidst the outbreak of boisterous laughter, Wayne said irritably, "Tig is a real pain in the ass for teaching Abel that, but don't tell him I said so. With the cancer giving me a reprieve, I'm not interested in a premature death at the hands of an outlaw."

"Uh, yes, baby, I'll bring something back for, uh, your uncle too," Marlowe coughed rather violently and cleared her throat, thinking to herself that while Unser had good reason to be scared shitless, she had no problem having a very long and painful conversation with a certain crazy-haired biker about the type of appropriate child-friendly conversation he will be having in the future with her son. Shaking her head ruefully, she refocused on Abel. "Now give me a big hug and kiss."

The little boy did as instructed and cheerfully accepted being handed over to his father.

"All right, it's time to get this road trip started."

"Did Lowell give Marley's cage a once over like I told him?" Jax asked Happy.

"Yeah, I made sure he checked it out and I took another look at it myself. It's good to go, but with Marley driving we can only hope they'll get there in one piece."

"Kiss my ass Hap," Marlowe said sunnily as she jumped into the driver's seat.

"I'll beat if you and Tiny don't come back in one piece," he shot back with a stone-faced glare.

Giving her old man one final kiss, Lyla joined her friend in the passenger seat and quickly buckled up.

"You ready Thelma?" Marlowe quipped.

"Sure thing Louise," Lyla replied. "Let's do this shit."

As the SUV pealed tires as it pulled out the lot, the three officers of SAMCRO eyed each other sourly.

It was going to be a _really_ long weekend.

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada—Friday, June 10, 2011** _

"You have got to be shitting me," Marlowe said blankly. "I mean I know Nico is an upscale kind of bitch, but . . . _damn_!"

"OMG, it's absolutely gorgeous," Lyla squealed as she did a little boogie on the sidewalk.

Despite running into some heavy traffic the nearly 4-hour drive had been relatively easy journey using the GPS in Marlowe's new smart phone, and the two women had spent most of the time laughing, talking and blasting the perfect road music as they cruised the I-5 onto the I-80 to Reno.

While Marlowe was aware that Nico lived in a gated community, once they had been granted entrance through the security gates, nothing had prepared her for the sumptuous properties she had driven past, each one better than the last, that is, until she parked the SUV in front of Nico's home.

The house was a mansion and the property it sat on was expansive, with beautifully manicured lawns of deep green. With a three car garage, the two-story home with towering windows, skylights and a sprawling lawn spoke volumes about the wealth of its owner.

Even as the two women marveled at the property, the large door of solid oak and beveled glass was thrown open and Nico ran out and down the steps.

"Bitches, where you been?" she shrieked. Launching herself at Marlowe, Nico was embraced with a hearty hug. "You have absolutely no idea how glad I am to see you two heifers," she practically blubbered.

Hey girl," Marlowe said with concern as she wrapped her arms around the seriously shorter woman who was probably the most informally dressed she had ever seen her to date—yoga pants, a cropped tank top and a pair of chic silver flip flops. "Despite the traffic I drove like we were in the Indy 500, but we're here now." Marlowe looked up at the house again and shook her head in wonder. "Shit, girl, I knew you had some cheese, but _damn_. This is some place you got here."

Marlowe pulled back to let Lyla get in a hug. "Please tell me you have a staff to handle this bitch, because if you tell me you work and clean house too, I'll pass out," Lyla joked.

Nico chuckled swiping at her tearing eyes. "No way girls. If I've learned one thing from my mother it is how to 'delegate' shit. Now c'mon. Let's grab your bags and get inside," and turned to wave to two women—one, sturdy and middle-aged, the other built along the same lines but much younger. Both were dressed in a casual uniform of white shirts and khakis. "Helen, Jody, let's get these bags inside and deposited in the guest rooms."

"Yes, ma'am," Helen replied with a smile.

* * *

"Umm," Marlowe moaned, "this shit was fantastic." She speared the last forkful of the pasta and shoved it into her mouth with gusto.

"Would you like some more?" Nico asked as she sipped on a glass of ice tea. "There's plenty."

"Girl, I'm stuffed. I don't think I have room for one more bite."

"That was totally amazing," Lyla agreed.

The three women were sitting comfortably at the dining room table adjacent to a spacious kitchen. After giving her friends the grand tour of the house and grounds, Nico had announced that Helen had prepared them a light lunch, however it was anything but. All types of tempting delicacies had awaited them and while some of the food was exotic and unrecognizable, it was all extremely tasty.

"Then why don't we go relax on the lanai?" Nico stood up and took the tray on which the pitcher of ice tea stood. "Helen, thank you so much. The meal was excellent as usual. If you can clear this all away that would be great and take the rest of the day off. I'll be returning to Charming on Monday with my friends so you and Jody won't have to come in for the weekly cleaning until it suits you."

"Very good ma'am."

Marlowe and Lyla extended their thanks to the housekeeper for a mighty fine meal before picking up their glasses and following their hostess outside to a lovely seating area of patio furniture. Setting down the tray on a glass and stone table, Nico picked up a remote and used it to turn on a discreetly hidden sound deck. As the soft sexy sounds of Boney James slid out the speakers she gestured for everyone to sit down. "I do most of my own cooking but I nearly forgotten how good Helen's cooking is. I've been away from home for a long time."

"She's fantastic," Lyla exclaimed. "If I had space I'd ask her to move in with us. It would be so nice not to have to worry about what to make for the next meal." Lyla shrugged. "Ope didn't exactly marry me for my Suzy Homemaker skills."

"Yeah, but I'm sure he's not complaining about your talents as a good mom, besides other shit," Marlowe replied. Leaning back in her chair she eyed Nico with concern. "I'm glad you ate hearty. I don't mean to sound bitchy, but it looks like you might have dropped a few pounds."

Nico shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly in the mood to eat much of anything over the last few days."

"I know," Marlowe commiserated. "I'm glad that things are better with Tonio."

Nico nodded. "So am I." She hesitated. "I want to—need to—thank you girls. I really needed to unload all of my drama when I called. I certainly never expected you two to rush down here to my rescue—"

"And why wouldn't we?" Lyla exclaimed. "After all the shit you've done for us and for the Club? You have to know you mean a lot more to us than just the Club's counselor. You're our friend and friends stick together through the bad shit and pull each other up when they need help."

"Ly's right, Nico. Let me tell ya, if I had found out you went through all this shit after the fact I would have been pretty pissed off with you. I'm just glad you called the house while my old man was on the lot. Jax probably would have tried to get shit out of me for sure, never mind Hap."

"How is Happy doing?" Nico asked. "He's texted me a few times and I've hit him back, but it was just to let him know I was okay. I wasn't about to drop this shit on him."

"He's good, but he's not exactly thrilled with you right now. Pissed off that you didn't come home."

"And really pissed off about our 'girls only weekend'," Lyla waggled her eyebrows. "I think the outlaw is missing his girl. Happy may be a tough, crazy and bad assed outlaw, but I think he might be a little nervous about what you're doing up here without him." She chuckled as Nico's face flushed.

"Yeah, well I guess there's no harm in admitting that I missed his cranky ass too." Nico paused. "But nobody in the Club knows why—"

"Not a word," Marlowe promised. "I just said that you invited us up for a little fun time, to give us an opportunity to see the city lights in Reno. Lord knows you need it after the week you've had." She shook her head. "I still can't believe you had to deal with that crazy shit. Your ex was a real bastard."

"Yes he was."

"That must have been hard," Lyla ventured. "Having to take care of him. Now that I know more of the particulars it's pretty easy to connect the dots. No wonder Happy was called in to help you out. I hope he made him suffer."

"Oh he did," Nico replied with a sharp grin. "Although I don't know what was worse for Rocco—the pain Happy physically inflicted on him or the mental anguish as Happy groped my ass and sucked the tongue out of my head right in his face."

"Get the fuck outta here," Marlowe yelped. "Hap was putting the moves on you that soon after meeting your ass?"

"Oh yes he did and I encouraged him too. It really burned Rocco's ass too when I said how I preferred a roughneck outlaw biker as a lover than him any day of the week. Happy really came through for me in handling the job, although he did give me some lip when I ordered him to hit me." Nico grinned at the memory.

"What?" Both women exclaimed.

Nico held up her hands defensively. "It was for window dressing and a very necessary part of the scenario I had put together. It wasn't a biggie. I healed up just fine."

"Damn, I was right. You _are_ Bonnie," Marlowe muttered.

"What?" Nico said perplexed.

"Never mind. I want to hear the full details of this shit."

Swearing the women to secrecy, Nico gave full disclosure on the events that led up to the kidnapping and killing of her ex.

"Damn, I would have liked to see Hap all dolled up," Marlowe laughed. "I mean, him posing as wait staff and passing out hors d'oeuvres?"

"Yeah, it's not like he would fit the mold of a typical waiter," Lyla agreed. "I mean that awesome snake tattoo he rocks on his head. He must have looked scary _and_ sexy as hell."

"He did look hot," Nico agreed. "But he looked even better while he was working Rocco over." She sighed. "You know, the funny thing is, he warned me."

"About what?" Marlowe asked.

"How Rocco's death could affect Tonio. That he would take the lead from me in his mourning process and that I needed to show him that it was okay to mourn his father. Hap may be a killer, but it doesn't mean he doesn't see the shit underneath the surface. Remembering his words really helped me in reaching Tonio. I'll always be grateful to him for that." Nico sipped her ice tea. "At least Tonio will have some time to settle the noise in his head and so will I. I tell ya, the last thing I wanted to do was to come to back Charming in a funky ass mood after everything that went down. I wouldn't be of any real use to the Club with all this shit still weighing on me."

"So are we going to get a chance to meet your son?" Marlowe asked as she poured herself another glass of ice tea and topped off her friends glasses.

"No, he's actually up in Tahoe with the rest of his cousins at a family retreat. My brother-in-laws took them away for some male bonding shit, which was why I decided to extend my time here and unwind. And that's going to be a lot easier and more fun now that you bitches are here." Nico grinned. "You will, however, get to meet him in a month or so. I'm going to have him come and stay with me in Charming for a week."

"That will be nice for you," Marlowe replied. "Hopefully he'll see small town living at its finest and won't be too bored, but I gotta wonder what he is going to think when he gets a load of the MC." She leaned back in her chair and eyed her friend. "So . . . are you going to introduce him to Hap?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, sure, I'm going to introduce him to everybody," Nico hedged.

"Yeah, but will you introduce Happy to your baby boy as _your man_?" Lyla sniggered. "That'll be something."

"I think that shit will be on a need to know basis and Tonio doesn't need to know, so probably not. He's already suffered enough shocks this summer."

"I wonder what my brother will think about that."

"It probably won't matter to Happy one way or another.

"I guess we'll see." Marlowe wisely decided to bring the conversation to a close.

_No need for me to make Nico see the light. I'm sure Happy will be able to do that shit all on his own._

"So what do you have planned for us today? Are we gonna paint the town red?" she asked.

"Eventually, but I thought it would be nice to start off with a little city tour—take you girls around and see some of the sights for a couple of hours. Then we can come back here and get freshened up for the evening festivities."

"Sounds intriguing," Lyla said. "Do we need to put our party rags on?"

Nico shook her head. "Not tonight. We can keep it casual and comfortable." She eyed Marlowe with narrow eyes. "But not raggedy," she insisted.

"You talking to me?" Marlowe said satirically.

"Is there anybody else sitting on my lanai wearing desert fatigue cargo pants and a ratty old Navy t-shirt?" Nico shot back as Lyla snickered.

"Excuse the hell outta me for wanting to be comfortable when I go on a fuckin' road trip."

"Well the trip is over, so I don't want to see that shit again."

"Don't worry," Lyla said. "I got a couple of outfits Gem bought her in my bag. She'll look presentable. Dress or pants?"

"Pants will do," Nico said as if the object of their discussion wasn't present. "She'll need it for our activities in the evening."

"Uh, you two heifers need to stop your shit," Marlowe muttered.

"Anyway," Nico said airily, "for your first night out, I thought I'd ease you into the Reno night life. I thought dinner at _La Cucina_ would be a nice end to the day. Since your men folk enjoyed the food when they came to town back in the spring, I thought you ladies should get to have some good Italian fare too."

"Okay. Now that plan sounds doable," Marlowe grinned.

"And afterwards?"

Nico grinned. "How'd you like to go do a little drag racing at Top Gun Raceway? It might even seem a little like home to you, Marley, since the track was built on Fallon Naval Air Station using some defunct landing strips."

"Get out!" Marlowe grinned. "You mean me and my lead food is gonna drive your Porsche? I don't think Jax is going to like that."

"And neither will my car, which is why that shit won't be happening," Nico snipped. "Besides, you have to be qualified and have track experience to participate, which I am. You ladies can, however, take turns at riding shot gun with me on a couple of runs."

"Wow, I've never done anything like that before," Lyla said a little apprehensively.

"Well, by the time we finish a run, your wavy hair will be straight," Nico grinned. "You know, my brother Dom would be really pissed at me if he knew I was going without him. I really wanted to introduce you guys and have him come with us but this was the first weekend in months he's been able to hang out with his girlfriend. Elena dragged his ass to LA for a fun-filled weekend with some of their friends. But it's probably for the best anyway. This doesn't exactly have the real thrill of illegal drag racing that he craves, but it will do in a pinch for us."

Nico stood up. "Time's a wasting so let's go hit the street."

* * *

_**Reno, Nevada—Saturday, June 11, 2011** _

In heading to Reno, Marlowe's concern had mainly centered on being there for Nico to get her out of the painfully bad headspace that she had fallen into. The Navy corpsman hadn't expected, however, to enjoy herself quite so much.

Yesterday's sight-seeing tour had been fun and entertaining. Nico had taken them around town and had hit all of the crazy tourist traps and must do stops in town. She had driven them out to scenic points of interest—the Truckee River, Nico's alma mater, the University of Nevada, and a ride out to take stunning pictures of the Nevada mountains and dessert. The National Automobile Museum, however, was a huge hit with both women. With Nico knowing the Director they had gotten an exclusive tour and had the privilege of picking out a couple of cars to sit in and take pictures. Egging her friends on, Nico had taken sexy pictures of both Marlowe and Lyla spread out on the hoods of several cars as a special treat for their old men. Not allowing Nico to miss out on the fun, Marlowe had insisted that Nico take a few herself before the tour had finally ended and they had returned back to Nico's home.

Showering and changing for dinner in a really nice pair of skinny jeans and sexy red top, Marlowe felt she had cleaned up pretty good as she enjoyed a long and filling meal at Nico's family's restaurant. After an incredible dessert of Italian Ricotta Cheesecake and rich espresso, Nico had the car brought around and they headed off to the Raceway.

It was crowded for the evening's scheduled events with many participants and the fans that showed up to watch from the large number of bleachers up and down the strips. Nico had signed them up for two races—each one allowing her to have a passenger in her vehicle. At the last minute, however, Lyla had chickened out.

"I'm too pretty to die young," she said decidedly, which left Marlowe happy to be Nico's wingman on both runs.

And it was fabulous!

Pitting her Porsche against a shaggy red-headed beer belly driver and his companion, a skinny blond in his souped up black GMC truck with red thunderbolts painted on its sides, Nico had torn down the former 6,000 foot runway now transformed into a drag strip the moment the starter's gun had went off. Cheering her on as the wind from the open windows whipped through the hair that stuck out of the back of their regulation helmets, Nico had easily beaten the competition.

Their second run had been on an even longer strip but this time they went up against a 2010 red Ferrari. The passenger, a very sexy dirty blond with bright green eyes had certainly thought a lot of himself and his capabilities, not having seen Nico's first run. He and his passenger—another cute blond—was far too busy trying to convince Nico and her to hook up after the race that he was so sure he was going to win.

Instead, Nico blew him off the fucking road!

All in all it had been a roaring good time and Marlowe was hard pressed to believe that Nico would be able to top Friday's entertainment.

She had been wrong.

Now as she stood next to Nico, Marlowe was thoroughly amazed at what she was seeing.

"Get the fuck outta here," Marlowe said wide-eyed as she stood in the doorway.

The slight cough and clearing of the throat of the immaculately dressed bellman had Marlowe turning to give him the hairy eyeball. "Is that a hair ball? Do you need a little assistance getting rid of that shit?" she inquired, giving him a dead-eyed stare.

"No ma'am," he hastily replied nervously. "Not at all."

"Don't mind my friend's communication skills, Robert. It's simply her way," Nico said gaily.

"Um, thank you Ms. Torelli. Would you like me to give the grand tour?" the bellman offered.

"Yes, that would be lovely."

Turning to them, Robert extended a gloved hand. "Welcome to the Peppermill Reno Casino and Spa Resort. I present the Tuscany Palace Suite."

The bellman spent the next ten minutes escorting the party through the elegantly designed three-bedroom, two-floor suite that offered every possible amenity, including a dining area, living area, a huge media room, a professional chef kitchen, and a huge outdoor balcony with pool and swim-up wet bar.

Handing Robert a generous tip, Nico watched as the man tucked the bill discreetly into his jacket and with a low bow, exited the suite closing the gilded double doors behind him.

"Girl, nobody in Charming is going to believe this shit," Lyla squealed.

"I thought your home was something, but this shit is out of this world," Marlowe said amazed.

"It's the stuff made of fantasy, I'll grant you, which is what our high roller customers want and expect, but that's all it is—just the fantasy, the glitz. What you girls have in Charming—that's the real deal, so cherish that," Nico replied. "But's it's nice to live in a fantasy world every once in a while, which is why I thought we could spend the rest of our weekend here in the heart of the strip and I have plenty of plans."

"Ooh, like what?" Lyla said excitedly.

"Well, first off I thought we could spend a little time exploring the resort before we do some retail therapy. Now I know that's not typically your shtick,' Nico directed to Marlowe, "but I have it on reliable advice that your wardrobe needs a definite upgrade, and since I've seen that shit personally, I totally agree."

"Amen to that!" Lyla chimed in. "Gem made her pack one of the dresses she bought her last summer, but I don't think it's what she's gonna need if we're going to go out on the town."

"Never let it be said that a leopard can't change her spots for a couple of days," Marlowe said wryly as she reached into her beloved backpack and pulled out a thick wad of $100 bills. "Jax gave me a whole bunch of mad money and told me not to bring any of it back home, so I guess I should oblige him no matter how much it pains me."

Nico reached over and took the wad from Marlowe and fanned through it, nodding her approval. "I always knew that old man of yours was a good provider and a class act, and you're gonna need every bit of this shit to get yourself some appropriate party wear because we've got a lot of rounds to make tonight and we need to be dressed to the kill. I have a fantastic night planned."

"Like what?"

"First, no trip to Reno can happen without getting in some gambling." Nico grinned. "I think it will be great for you two to spend a couple of hours losing some of SAMCRO's money in the Syndicate's casino. We'll keep things simple tonight though. I thought about getting us into a high stakes poker game, but I'm afraid I'll get too drawn in and like I said, we've got plenty to fit in tonight. But we can try out the slots and the roulette table. I'll even be nice and give you two some tips and who knows, maybe you'll win and we can hit up the Black Jack table too."

Marlowe smirked. "Oh, I'll be cleaning up there. I'm pretty good at that shit."

"No card counting, girl, or my dealers will make the high sign and your ass might get 86-sixed." Nico grinned. "After gambling, we have a 9:00 reservation for dinner at Bimini Steakhouse. Marley, I know how much you love red meat. Well let me tell you, you're going to think you died and went to cow heaven the moment you put your fork in your mouth."

"That sounds great to me. I _love_ me some cow meat."

"Then we've got a couple of late night shows at our lounges. We can hit the Terrace Bar first and one of my particular favorites, Oceano, which features a fantastic saltwater aquarium." Nico then wriggled her eyebrows. "Then we hit the strip."

"This sounds like its heating up girl," Lyla said with a grin.

"Oh it will. Let's just say that we're going to need a whole bunch of $1's, $5's and $10's because the Charming girls are gonna make it rain!" The living area was suddenly filled with shrieks of bawdy laughter.

"Oh Gawd," Marlowe choked. "Jax, Ope and Hap are gonna kill us."

"No they aren't, 'cause what happens in Reno stays the fuck in Reno." Nico ordered. "Now come on. Before we can party hearty, we've got shopping to do and I've arranged for a wonderful spa afternoon at Spa Toscana." Nico rolled her eyes. "There's only one small hiccup."

"What's that?" Lyla inquired.

"We won't be entirely alone tonight once we leave the hotel. Don't ask me how, but my uncle found out about our little evening out last night and is being a little bit of a pain in the ass, so we're going to have a couple Torelli bodyguards with us—just a little security—but I've made it clear that they are to be seen and not heard."

"Shit, I hope they won't be a buzzkill," Marlowe replied.

"They won't," Nico promised, "or they'll be sleeping with the fishes . . . and I can make that shit happen." She stood up and stretched.

"So grab your shit girls, and let's make tracks. We've got shopping to do."

* * *

"Nico, I swear on the life of my son, if Jax ever sees those pictures, you're gonna be dead meat," Marlowe warned.

"Girl, just stop it. You know I got your back. I won't rat you out—unless you give me a reason to," Nico chortled as she lay back on the long white leather seats of the stretch Hummer, their chariot on wheels for the evening.

"Hey, you aren't the only one with a smart phone, girl," Marlowe waved her phone in her face. "I got plenty of shit right here that I'm sure my brother would be interesting in seeing too, so I suggest you be very careful," she said gleefully as Nico tried and failed to snatch the phone out of her hand.

"Hey! You guys need to come up here," Lyla called down from her view as she stood up in the Hummer's sky roof waiving gaily at the crowds of people on the strip who were waving back. "It's awesome!"

Getting up, the two women joined Lyla as the limo continued to cruise down the strip. While the Las Vegas strip was the ultimate destination paradise and a mecca to all gamblers, Reno's version had a special heat of its own.

The strip—located on Virginia Street—was small, barely two miles long. With 5 main casinos—of which the Torelli's Peppermill was one—what remaining room housed a variety of locally owned restaurants, bars, lounges, strip clubs and all manner and type of entertainment that could be squeezed onto the strip and the adjacent streets.

For all of the variety of vices, Reno was considered to be something of a sleepy town. Not nearly as bombastic, glitzy and over the top as Vegas, Reno had its own charm and was considered to be a little on the homey side. The tables at the casinos were pretty warm and a gambler had a hell of a better chance at winning against the house in Reno than in Vegas where the gambling was pricey, the tables were often cold and beating the odds against the house was often slim.

The weather was delightful now that the hot Reno sun had long since departed—warm, but with lovely breezes that caused the perfectly styled hair of the three women to dance in the air as they took in the sights. Having already visited a strip club and a drag lounge, they were now heading for their next stop—one of the most popular nightclubs off the strip.

They had attracted no little amount of attention wherever they stopped. Nico had taken them to one of her favorite shops in the resort— _Bella Bottega_ —which carried everything from boutique-inspired clothing to the latest in women's fashion. The women had spent a giddy afternoon being waited on by several boutique assistants to find the perfect evening ensembles with the appropriate footwear and accessories.

Marlowe's outfit was a DKNY bandage dress in stunning red with cut-outs that showcased her strong biceps and abs, and was accented with a pair of black leather and suede Jimmy Choo booties. Reminiscent in style to a pair of combat boots, the shoe sported a peep toe with a 5" heel that caused her to tower over her companions.

Lyla had chosen a beautiful halter dress in emerald green by Dolce & Gabbana. The dress floated around her to mid-thigh and made her look like a beautiful blond goddess with 5" Grecian style sandals that laced up to her thighs.

Nico, however, had done little shopping having brought her dress with her. Elie Saab's interpretation of a little black dress clung to Nico's lavish curves with a deep plunging neckline and no back. It was a miracle of science and fashion design that managed to keep the dress in place. Nico had bought it shortly after her divorce papers had come through but hadn't had the courage to wear it until now. The dress was paired with 6" Louboutins featuring a cross-over ankle strap with intricately hand-placed leopard spikes detailing over the front of the extremely sexy shoe. Nico finished the look with a 20-carat sapphire teardrop surrounded by diamonds suspended on a 24-carat white gold chain with matching earrings, a gift from her father.

After their shopping spree, they had headed to Spa Toscana, the resort's premiere spa and enjoyed a multitude of scrubs, massages and finally hair, makeup and mani/pedi's before heading up to the Palace Suite to get ready for the evening.

The final results were outstanding. Each woman was beautiful in their individual way, but together as they strode confidently though the resort they were absolutely stunning, which was why Nico currently had more than a few blackmail pictures of Marlowe and Lyla. Three sexy women out on the town would certainly attract a lot of attention and they all had over the course of the evening rejected a number of invitations for their company, especially from the misfortunate ones who had wrongly assumed they were high-end call girls looking to score some johns. Their mistaken beliefs were made extremely clear by the two menacing men who did their job of protecting Nico and her companions very well.

Located off the strip on Second Street, LEX Nightclub was a huge venue and was clearly popular if the line that stretched out down the block and around the corner was anything to go by. The pumping music blared out of the outdoor speakers and was inviting.

"This place looks pretty good," Marlowe said as she appraised the venue.

"It ought to be. It's another one of our businesses, although that info isn't widely known," Nico winked at her. "I believe in spreading shit around which was why I pushed my father to buy it about five years ago and to give it a long overdue renovation. The jealousy between our Eden Nightclub and this one means that—"

"—both clubs end up being packed out," Marlowe nodded. "Smart play."

"Well let's go on in," Lyla quipped. "I'm ready to get my dance on."

"We have to wait for—" Nico stopped and then pointed to the two burly men who had exited the huge black SUV that had been their constant companion all evening. "—there they are. Okay, let's do this."

Stepping out of the limo and escorted by their bodyguards, Nico and her companions walked past the stanchions blocking the entrance while onlookers admired and envied the newcomers.

Approaching the burly bouncer on watch, Nico gave her name and they were promptly ushered inside to a large VIP booth. Their server Glenda, a pretty little redhead, welcomed them to LEX, the ultimate dance party.

"I see that you have your own private security," Glenda replied, "so can I assume you won't be needing ours that comes with your VIP reservation?"

"That's right."

"So what are you ladies celebrating tonight?"

"Being, young, free and momentarily childless and without our significant other," Marlowe quipped. "Now bring on the booze."

"Excellent," Glenda exclaimed. "What would you like?"

"I think a bottle of your best bubbly," Nico asked. "How does that sound guys?"

"I can do bubbly but I need to keep strict watch on my intake," Lyla replied.

"That means more for us," Nico quipped.

Glenda handed Nico an extensive wine list and between the two of them Nico quickly made a choice and moments later she was back, the gleaming bottle of Rose Vintage Dom Perignon, which was quickly corked and poured into exquisite long-stemmed flutes.

"Okay, ladies," Nico lifted a glass. "Here's to us. Bottoms up!" The three women took several sips to appreciate the delicate flavor before Nico ordered them to down their glasses. Suddenly she squealed, excitement vibrating through her. "Oh shit! That's my song. Come on," she ordered and headed towards the dance floor, a beautiful ice blue lake that had the dancers looking as they were gyrating on water.

For the next few hours, the women had themselves a ball as they went through a couple of bottles of expensive champagne. The music was hot and exciting and they made liberal use of the dance floor. They weren't alone however, as a number of men wanted to dance with them and they graciously accepted a few of them, despite their bodyguards not being happy about the decision.

"Girl, I think I'm a little buzzed," Nico said smiling as she leaned back in their booth. "I shouldn't have had that last glass."

"I'm thinking you shouldn't have had the last _bottle_. You drank most of that shit yourself and then ordered another one," Marlowe chuckled. "But it's all good, girl. You needed to let your hair down a little."

"Yes I did, and you two are the best two bitches for me to do it with." Nico lifted a slim wrist to eye her watch blearily. "But I think we probably should call it a night. I want to have a nice long lay in tomorrow before Chef Lorenzo comes up and prepares a really nice brunch for us."

"Hmm, that sounds scrumptious," Lyla said. "Marley, whatever you do, please don't let me get my ass on a scale when I get home. I don't want to know the damage."

"Bet."

Nico waived to Carlo, one of their guardians and asked him to have the limo brought around and watched as he headed off towards the exit. "Poor man. He certainly got an eyeful tonight. He better keep shit to himself, though, cause snitches get stitches." Picking up the bottle of champagne, Nico grinned. "I think we should at least finish off this bottle. One for the road?" She asked holding it up.

"Hell yeah." As they finished their drinks, Nico pressed the discreet little buzzer to summon their server. After thanking Glenda for a wonderful time, settling their bill and giving her a generous tip, the trio stood up and headed towards the entrance.

Although it was nearly 3 am, the street was still buzzing and the curb was still packed with cars picking up and dropping partygoers off.

Although the air was now considerably cooler, Nico was really feeling the effects of the alcohol. "Shit, where's the fucking limo?" she asked a little woozily.

"It looks like he wasn't able to pull up front," Lyla said, pointing. "Isn't that him across the street?"

"Well damn, that sucker is too big for him to do a U-turn. Let's just go ahead and cross the street," Nico said and started to step off the curb.

The blasting music from the club, the continued noises of the passing traffic and the outbursts of the partygoers masked a lot of ambient noise, but Marlowe still heard the sound of a deep rumbling car fast on the move and frowned.

 _That fucker is moving awfully fast within city limits_ , she thought.

"Maybe we should wait—" Marlowe started just as Nico stepped into the street.

As the sound of a powerful vehicle revving its engine echoed into the night, Marlowe swore as she focused her gray eyes on a vintage black muscle car as it sped down the street.

Directly towards Nico.

There was no time to sound a warning. Years of combat training simply snapped into sharp focus as Marlowe took a running leap and barreled into Nico knocking her down and shoving her out of the way of the swerving car as they both tumbled onto the asphalt.

"Oh shit," Marlowe muttered as she looked up to see the car swerve to avoid several pedestrians, including one of the Torelli soldiers who were tasked to protect them. The vehicle easily evaded its pursuers and took off down the street while another group of onlookers rushed to assist her and Nico, whose prone figure wasn't moving. Reaching over to gently check her friend for injuries, Marlowe said loudly, "Girl, are you okay? Say something, damn it," she ordered as she nervously checked for a pulse.

_Damn it, Hap is gonna kill me!_

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Monday, June 13, 2011** _

"So, are we clear about our weekend events?" Nico asked as Marlowe maneuvered her SUV down Main Street heading towards the lot.

"Yeah, we're clear, but you know how I feel—" Marlowe said irritably.

"And your feelings are noted," Nico replied. "But what happened was nothing more than a minor inconvenience and therefore is totally unnecessary to share with our men. Period."

"Your nearly getting run down by some psycho driver in some classic pimped out ride is merely an 'inconvenience'? Have you forgotten that you were fuckin' unconscious—" Marlowe started.

"—for all of 10 seconds," Nico said snidely.

"—and we still should have taken your ass to the hospital," Marlowe concluded.

"There was no need for that."

"Excuse me but _I'm_ the one who is an EMT and a former corpsman. You should have got checked out."

"Why should I when I had you?" Nico snarked. "You're better than a dozen nurses. You wrapped up my bruises. You woke my ass up every damn hour on the hour to check me and despite the fact that you ruined a good night's sleep for me, I was perfectly fine."

"That is beside the point. I think Hap should know what happened. He wouldn't like not knowing what happened to you. And neither would my old man. Not fucking likely," Marlowe muttered.

"Come on you two," Lyla urged. "Put a sock in it. We don't want the guys to pick up on any shit, cause if they do, it's going to open up a whole can of worms and we'll end up telling them everything and—"

"There'll be hell to pay," Nico concluded. "Never mind us ever getting another chance to go away again on a fun-filled weekend adventure without a slew of patches and/or soldiers as escorts. I'm glad _somebody_ in this car has her thinking cap on besides me," she said, glaring at Marlowe.

The three women—having returned to Charming in two separate cars—had stopped at Nico's home to drop off her ride and with Nico hopping in the back of Marlowe's SUV, were now making their way to the lot.

And their menfolk.

"Look, just to be clear. I didn't agree to keep quiet just because you got a couple of pictures with me grinding asses with 'Cher' and 'Diana Ross'," Marlowe said irritably as she thought of how she let Nico double dog dare her to get up on stage with the drag queens that night. "I can handle my man. I'm doing it because you're my friend, but—"

"—but you think I should tell Jax and Hap about what happened at the Club," Nico finished. "I know, but there's absolutely no reason to. It was just some asshole who probably had a little too much to drink, made a mistake and hit the gas instead of the brake."

"And nearly killed your ass," Marlowe shot back.

"But he didn't, because of the outstanding reflexes and killer instincts of a kick ass corpsman, that's why, and I'll be forever grateful to you."

Marlowe shook her head. "Buttering my ass up isn't helping your cause." She sighed. "I'd feel a lot better if at the very least your uncle knew what happened, but you swore those two goons to secrecy."

"Swore nothing. _I paid them off_. Besides, neither one of them wanted to explain to Zio where the fuck they were when my ass nearly became a bloody splat on the asphalt," Nico snorted. "Look, if I really wanted to find the asshole responsible, I could have probably paid the security in the Club to pull up their CCTV cameras, maybe got his license plate, found the fucker and arranged for a nice cement funeral, but that would have really put a crimp on the rest of our weekend." Nico smiled craftily at Marlowe in the rearview mirror. "Or are you going to tell me you would have preferred spending all day Sunday playing detective instead of the kick ass day we had?"

Marlowe rolled her eyes as she maneuvered down Charming's main street. "I guess not," she conceded. "That shit _was_ off the chain."

After the harrowing event outside the Club was over—with Nico fortunately not sustaining any serious injuries with the exception of some bruising along her right thigh—Nico had ripped a new asshole into the shamefaced body guards and then they returned to the resort. They had woken up to the wonderful smells of Chef Lorenzo cooking and had enjoyed a sumptuous brunch of Eggs Benedict, strawberry crepes, with Mimosas and Bellini's before spending the rest of the afternoon lazing in the sun by the pool. Deciding to keep their evening activities a little more sedate, Nico had ordered in a meal of bar food—chicken wings, nachos, sliders and steak fries—they watched a combination of chick flicks and action movies in the suite's media room, and stayed up long into the night talking about anything and everything.

Overall the entire weekend had been a roaring success and Nico felt happy and energized and ready to throw herself back into her work for the Sons—and on top of Happy Lowman's big dick.

Finally pulling into the lot, Marlowe parked in her customary spot and swore. "Well, shit. We're home girls."

"And happy to be home and you know it," Lyla said as she unclipped her seatbelt.

"Yeah, I missed my two scruffy mutts," Marlowe replied as she opened the door.

Nico rolled her eyes she spotted Tig and Kozik leaving the bay and heading in their direction. "All right girls. Here they come. Remember: 'What happens in Reno—'"

"'—stays in Reno'," Marlowe and Lyla replied in a sing song voice as the approaching patches came to a halt in front of the car.

"Well look who's back and dragging their asses," Tig whooped as he propped his hand on the SUV's hood. "If it isn't my favorite lawyer," he leered at Nico.

"You hate lawyers," Kozik grinned evilly. "You call them shyster bastards, every single one of them."

"All except my fine friend Nico here, who's in a class all by herself. How ya doing doll? Did you let your V off the chain since you were away from my brother?"

"If I did I wouldn't tell you shit about it," Nico countered with a grin. "Speaking of the devil, where the fuck is he?"

"Right here, Tiny," Happy said as he pushed his way into the crowd and grabbed a hold of her arm. "Say goodbye to your little friends . . . cause you won't' be seeing them for a long while."

With a shriek of laughter, Nico found herself moving at a fast trot to keep up with Happy's long legs as he headed straight for the Clubhouse. "I guess I'll see you bitches later," she shouted over her shoulder, and grinned as Jax and Opie exited the Clubhouse.

"Hi guys . . . bye guys," Nico laughed as neither man paid her any attention, hell bent on getting to their old ladies.

* * *

"Shit, girl, you really went through it, huh?" Happy said quietly.

"Yeah. It was pretty serious," Nico said softly.

The two of them were cuddled up in Happy's dorm. Their reunion after being apart for 11 days had been quite vigorous and extremely satisfying but afterwards, they had fallen into conversation with Nico prodding Happy on the goings on in Charming while she had been away. He was surprisingly forthcoming and having filled her in had turned the tables on her and demanded details on her time in Reno.

Lying naked across Happy's chest, a thin bed sheet and blanket covering them both, Nico found herself uncharacteristically quiet which Happy did not appreciate in the least and after much digging mixed with several threats, she had finally spilled out the truth about her visit home.

What surprised Nico the most was Happy's response after she had fully downloaded all of her family drama.

"So why didn't you call, Tiny? Let me know what was going down?"

Nico avoided his hard gaze. "Oh, I don't know Hap. I guess . . . I guess I didn't want you to see the hot mess I was. I pride myself as a woman who can handle her own shit, you know?"

"Yeah I know, and I see you do that all the time. You're the toughest broad I know. But you ain't invincible, and that ain't a crime. I don't mind you sharing shit with me once in a while."

"Oh really?" Nico derided. "Then why does it seem like you keep a lot of your own shit tucked away in there?" she poked at his chest. "You aren't always the most forthcoming with a lot of shit. Getting you to open up about shit is tough. To tell you the truth, I was kind of reluctant to tell you anything, because I thought that—"

"What?"

"That maybe you wouldn't really be interested," Nico ventured. "After all, we're pretty much nothing to each other but fuck buddies, right?" She peeped at him between her lashes.

"I think," Happy said with a long suffering sigh, "that you can be a needy bitch at times, but—" He watched her sit up with fire in her eye.

"But what?" Nico said belligerently.

"—but I think you would have enough sense to know that you ain't just pussy to me," Happy replied as he watched a slow smile creep across her features.

"Is that right?"

"Yeah. You know for a lawyer sometimes you say and think some stupid shit. I guess that's the woman in ya."

"And for someone who is proud to be known as a misogynist bastard, I think it's been proven that you're a softy inside." Nico laughed loudly at his affronted expression. "Don't worry, Killer, I won't share that bit of Intel with anybody."

"Shit, I ain't soft."

"Maybe that is a _little_ harsh, but let's face it, Hap. You do have an ability to get to the heart of a matter and you give great advice, especially about Tonio."

Happy frowned. "When did I do that?"

"At Jury's in his office when I brought the Club's fee for you handling Rocco. Remember now?"

Happy smirked. "Yeah, now I do. That shit really helped, huh?"

"It did. You know, now that I look back on it, it and now that I've gotten to know you better, you dishing out that kind of advice really doesn't surprise me. You'd make a really good father Hap."

"Oh get outta here."

"No, I really mean it. After all, look how well you did with Marlowe." Nico rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, you may not be her sperm donor—Kozik has that honor—but you did all the work with her and it shows and you should be proud of that shit. You are, aren't you."

"Yeah, maybe I am."

"Damn straight you are. I just wish—"

"Wish what?"

"That my son could have had a man in his life like you to be his Dad. I mean, Rocco was a disgusting piece of shit, but he was still Tonio's father. Now that he's gone, I kind of feel like I'm a poor substitute."

"Fuck that shit, Nico." Happy used his index finger to tilt up her chin. "In the Dad department, you run circles around that fucking clown."

Nico's eyes were moist. "You really mean that, Hap?"

"Now Tiny, don't get all weepy on me. I never say shit I don't mean," he replied. "Your boy is better off without that loser. And you got other men in your family who can step in for some shit, but your boy can get most of what he needs from you. Believe me, I know that shit for a fact. My Ma raised me all by herself and I think she did a pretty good job, considering."

"I think she did too," Nico agreed. "Especially dealing with your ornery ass."

Happy reached over to pull her closer to him. "So enough of all this maudlin shit." He eyed her. "So are you going to really tell me what the fuck went down in Reno or not?"

Feeling really good about their talk and filed away Happy's comments for examination later, Nico focused on the man whose arms she was in. "Why? You don't quote me chapter and verse on your doings when you're hanging out with your brothers, do you?"

"No. But I don't need to be all up in my brothers business when they show up wearing bruises. It's another matter when you do," Happy said as he let his land rest on the side of her hip which was supporting a livid black and blue mark. "So how the fuck did you get this shit?"

 _Damn, I knew this was coming_ , Nico thought as she got ready to lie like a rug.

"It was no big deal, Hap. I lost my footing in the street one night and hit the ground heavy, is all."

"Huh. You were probably wearing a pair of them stilts you call shoes, when it happened, right?"

"I don't wear stilts; I wear heels."

"Heels you don't need. Tiny, you should just accept that your height challenged and let it go. I don't like you bruising up your shit because you're teetering around on heels as thin as a damn pencil."

"So is that concern I hear in your voice, tiger?"

"Maybe I just don't like my woman bruised up is all," he muttered.

_Shit! Did I just call Tiny 'my woman'? Aloud! Shit Shit! Shit!_

Quickly moving to cut off any possible conversation, Happy gathered Nico in his arms and flipped her onto her back.

"The time for conversation is over," he ordered. "I've got 11 days of fucking to make up for, so let's get to it."

As he bent over and took her eager mouth in his own, Happy figured that he had averted a crisis—for now.

_Apparently I let my missing Tiny get me talking a little too much._

_All I know is Tiny better not have any more weekend trips planned. Her ass needs to stay home._

It never occurred to Happy that in his mind he already considered that Charming _was_ Tiny's home.

* * *

**Glossary :**

**_ixnay:_ nix or nothing (in Pig Latin )**

**_ubbingclay:_ clubbing (in Pig Latin)**


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Wednesday, July 6, 2011** _

V-Lin wiped his oily hands on a dirty rag before tossing it down on a workbench having completed an oil change on an aging Toyota Camry. It was the final step in getting the cage ready for its owner who was planning a road trip to Baja this weekend with his girlfriend and the prospect was glad to be finished with it. Although Gemma, after some prodding from him, had told the owner that his cage was on its last legs, the man insisted that his ride still had a few more miles on it, and to proceed with the repairs. V-Lin had done so and figured that despite all of his efforts, it'd be a miracle if the piece of shit made it out of town without breaking down.

 _The stupid jerk won't be getting any pussy this weekend_ , he thought with some amusement.

Walking out of the bay intent on grabbing a bottle of water and taking a well-deserved break, V-Lin squinted as he exited the bay into the bright sunlight. The lot was a beehive of activity, a number of mechanics busy working on a variety of cages, while clients streamed in to either pick up or drop off their vehicles.

V-Lin let out a long low whistle as a candy apple red Ford Mustang convertible pulled into the lot, its engine making a low throaty purr.

 _Damn, now that's a cage_ , he thought as it continued to maneuver into the lot, attracting a lot of attention, especially the driver.

Strolling forward, V-Lin watched as the car pulled to a stop a few feet away from the office. As the driver exited the car and headed towards him, the prospect pursed his lips.

 _Big bastard_ , V-Lin thought as he had to be 6'4, maybe taller as he strolled over. "Hi," V-Lin said, facing the man. "Welcome to T-M. That's a fine cage you got there. Wha'cha need?"

The tall, muscular black man smiled faintly, a pair of mirrored sunglasses hiding the expression in his eyes. His closely cropped hair and box beard sported minute gray hairs which gave him a distinguished air and the open necked blue button down with rolled up sleeves revealed powerful arms and was paired with dark wash jeans and black leather boots. "Thanks," the man replied as he shoved a hand into his pocket. "My ride is good actually. You might be able to help me though. I'm trying to find a friend of mine. Her name's Marlowe Guthrie. Is she around?"

V-Lin blinked. _He's looking Doc?_ he thought with confusion. Before he could answer, however, a voice behind him interrupted.

"Who wants to know?" Gemma Teller-Morrow said suspiciously as she stepped outside the office to face V-Lin and the visitor, her beleaguered Boy Friday, Chucky, hot on her heels.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," the man said with a disarming smile. "I'm just an old friend of—Doc's—that is, Marley. She's not expecting me, but I was in this part NorCal and thought I'd touch base."

"Well, she's not here right now Mr.—" Gemma paused pointedly.

"Williams," he replied pleasantly. "James Williams."

"And exactly how do you know _Doc_?" Gemma inquired, placing a hand on a cocked hip.

"Oh Doc and I go way back," he said noncommittally.

"Funny she's never mentioned you."

"Well if you know her, then I'm sure you know Doc isn't exactly the talkative type," he said with a charming smile.

"Too true," Gemma replied and firmed her lips into a hard line. "Unfortunately she's not here today and I honestly don't know when she'll be around," she lied.

"You might be able to catch her at SAS, though," Chucky said helpfully. "It's off Exit 20 on I-22." He shrank back a bit as Gemma glared at him.

"Really?" Williams drawled. "What exactly is SAS?"

"Uh," Chucky stammered, "that's where she works—the San Joaquin Ambulance Service."

 _Damn Chucky, way to drop a dime on Doc_ , V-Lin thought as the man offered Chucky a bright smile.

"Thanks. I appreciate that. Maybe I might catch her there." He nodded briefly towards a steaming Gemma before he got into his car and pulled out of the lot.

V-Lin shook his head, and really couldn't sympathize when Gemma slapped the back of Chucky's head and started to blister his ears. Realizing that he didn't want the sight of Chucky becoming nothing more than a bloody stain on the lot's blacktop etched into his brain, V-Lin turned towards the Clubhouse to retrieve his bottle of water.

_It sure doesn't pay to mess with Mother Gemma._

* * *

"What a shitty day," Avery said wearily.

"Yeah," Marlowe replied as she pulled off the exit towards SAS. "At least it's done.

It had been a pretty busy day for SAS generally. It seemed that the blistering temperatures from the heat wave NorCal was currently experiencing managed to bring out the worst in people. In addition to the list of usual emergencies of heart attacks, strokes, slip and fall injuries and car accidents, there had been a number of violent incidents, including an uptick in stabbings and GSWs.

It resulted in a pretty heavy schedule for Marlowe and Avery and the two of them barely managed to grab lunch on the run in between calls.

All Marlowe wanted was to grab her car, pick up Abel and to collapse face down on her and Jax's bed, all in that order.

 _I ain't cooking shit. Jax is going to have to be in full hunter, gatherer and provider mode tonight_ , she thought as she pulled into the lot and parked the rig in its customary slot.

"So what are you doing tonight?" she asked her partner as they exited the rig.

"Me?" Avery stretched his arms over his head. "I got to get home and find me a little energy. I've got a hot date," he wriggled his eyebrows lusciously. "And if it works out according to plan, I'll be having breakfast in bed tomorrow."

Marlowe shook her head. "That poor woman. I hope she'll be able to walk after you're through with her."

Avery winked at her cheekily. "That's the plan, love. Always leave 'em smiling."

Marlowe snorted as she reached behind her seat to grab her beloved backpack. "Well do me a favor, Casanova. I don't feel like walking back to the Barn, so punch me out, will ya?"

"Sure thing, Marley. See you tomorrow."

Marlowe watched as Avery briskly trotted away and sighed.

 _That boy is mental_ , she thought as she turned to head towards her SUV.

The lot was busy with other EMTs arriving or departing to start or end their shifts and Marlowe waived gaily at them and moved quickly at a trot in front of a bright red sports car to get to her vehicle.

"Still working with the pretty boys I see. Some shit never changes," a voice called out to her and Marlowe froze.

_Nah. It couldn't be . . ._

And turning around Marlowe let out a screech of excitement as she spotted the driver in the car. "You have GOT to be shitting me!" she exclaimed as it pulled to a stop and the man exited the car. "Bear is that really you?!" Marlowe ran forward and found herself engulfed in a pair of strong muscled arms.

"It's me in the flesh, Doc."

Marlowe pulled away from him her eyes shining. "Jesus, it's been—"

"Nearly seven years," James "Big Bear" Williams said sternly. "Where your ass been, girl?"

Marlowe shrugged. "Well, shit happens, ya know?" she said sheepishly, her embarrassment readily apparent.

"Yeah, I know, but that's no excuse to bail on your friends." Bear said disapprovingly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Marlowe rolled her eyes. _Still a tough son of a bitch_ , she thought. "How the fuck did you find me, anyway?"

"I've got my ways," he grinned. "I'm making my way to Oregon to do a little fly fishing and thought I'd take a detour and track your ass down since you can't be bothered to call nobody." He reached out to brush the insignia on her uniform with a huge finger. "So, new job huh? You finished for the day?"

"Yeah, just wrapped up my shift."

"Good. Then why don't we go somewhere and grab a drink. We've got some catching up to do."

Marlowe eyed him warily but there was nothing on Bear's face to indicate what was on his mind. He hadn't changed a bit, she decided. Always knew how to keep his counsel, and it had her concerned.

 _Bear didn't come all the way from Miramar just to have a beer_ , Marlowe thought grimly. _Well, I've been waiting for shit to finally be over with my career. I guess with Bear here, it has finally come to pass._

"Okay," she said calmly. "Why don't you jump up in that souped up cage of yours and follow me?"

* * *

Louie's was a slight step up from the dive bars that were located south of Lodi's industrial area. Most of its patrons were factory and construction workers. Although it was late in the afternoon, the evening crowd would soon pick up in the bar. For the moment it was relatively quiet with the exception of a few patrons playing a game of pool in the back as some easy listening tunes played over the bar's speakers. It had only taken ten minutes for Marlowe and Bear to make their way to the unobtrusive bar.

Master Chief Petty Officer James "Big Bear" Williams was probably the most respected officer of Marlowe's colleagues. He was affectionately known as "Big Bear" or "Bear" not just because of his capacity for rendering medical care not unlike a mother bear caring for her cubs, but for his fierce aggressiveness and ability to pick up an M-16 rifle and handle shit to protect the backs of the platoons of Marines he was assigned to render medical

aid. Spanning a career of over 30 years, Marlowe had first met Bear shortly after completing her basic training. As her first instructor at the Naval Hospital Corps School at the Great Lakes, he had been a tough instructor who had apparently saw something in her. He had taken a decided interest in toughening her up, and with the big ass chip she had on her shoulder—courtesy of one Happy Lowman—she had been quite suspicious of his motives. Marlowe soon came to realize that Bear was truly concerned about the newbies under his watch. As a result of his mentoring, she had learned much from him and would always feel indebted to him for looking out for her.

In service to his country, Bear had served numerous tours of duty in Okinawa, Thailand, Baghdad and countless hot spots around the world, steadily increasing in knowledge and rank and had received numerous decorations, including the Defense Meritorious Service Medal, the Joint Service Commendation Medal, and the Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal, among others. The last time Marlowe had been reunited with him had been during her Marine Force Warfare Specialist Training at Naval Hospital Camp Pendleton, where Bear had been promoted to Master Chief Petty Officer.

After the fragging incident which had basically ended her career—stripping her of her rank and incarcerating her at NAVCONBRIG in Miramar—the last thing Marlowe had wanted was to reconnect with anyone from her military past. She had been very tempted when she first got out to reach out to Bear, but it was too painful and embarrassing to see him after those circumstances and yet, now that she sat across from him laughing and joking about old times, it made her realize just how much she had truly missed her Navy and Marine brothers and how thankful she was that she had found a haven within SAMCRO.

Now, having managed to secure a booth in the back of the bar, Marlowe sat across the table and waited as the barkeep brought over their drinks and a bowl of salsa and chips before addressing her former Commander and friend. "So, you wanna explain to me why your ass is sitting across from mine in a dive bar in Lodi instead of the houseboat you were planning to buy and dock in the San Francisco Bay?" she asked as she swirled around the contents of her glass of ginger ale before taking a sip.

Bear sat back and grinned wryly. "What? I can't just be passing through NorCal and decide to stop off to see an old friend?"

Marlowe blew a raspberry. "When I haven't laid eyes on you in nearly seven years? That's pretty un-fuckin-likely." Marlowe focused her gray eyes on him. "So what's the deal, Bear?"

The older man sighed and ran a large hand over his closely cropped hair. "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he began, "but I figured that you'd want to hear this shit sooner rather than later and that you'd prolly take it better coming from me than from Command."

"Damn," Marlowe muttered as she focused on Bear's dark brown eyes. "I knew shit was about to hit the fan as soon as I saw your ass."

"Of course you did," he agreed as he put down his beer. "I trained you well on how to get a read on shit."

Marlowe sighed. "Let me take a wild guess—the Navy is finally through with my ass. So what am I looking at here, am I out on a medical with partial VA benefits for the rest of my fuckin' life? Or maybe it's even worse. A dishonorable discharge and the loss of my G.I. bill since they figured they haven't truly fucked me over good enough, so hey, let's just scrap all my years of fuckin' service?" Marlowe said, suddenly surprised at how glum she was feeling as she took a sip of her soda. After all, getting the boot from the Navy wasn't really unexpected. It was definitely a long time coming as she had been on what was supposed to be temporary disability for nearly four years. Uncle Sam was likely getting rid of her before the end of her reenlistment would probably save them from fulfilling any obligations they had to her as a veteran.

Later on as she was making her way back to Charming, Marlowe had thought it had been a pretty good thing her ass had been sitting down when Bear had finally dropped the news.

"Actually," Bear replied, "Uncle Sam wants your fine ass back." The former Master Chief Petty Officer, now retired, simultaneously smirked and winced as he leaned back to get out of spraying range as Marlowe spewed out her drink across the table.

"Are you shitting me?!" she screeched, her voice easily rising over the voices of the bar's patrons and the classic rock music, the crowd of locals stilling briefly to check for trouble before returning to their drinks and meals unconcerned.

"I shit you not," Bear sighed and shook his head. "I wish I was."

Marlowe sat back, her head reeling. "How is that even fuckin' possible?" she finally managed to say as she used a small bar napkin to mop her face and chest of her drink.

"Because Brett Samuels is a very persistent son of a bitch," Bear said with a grin and watched as his companion's eyes widened in shock.

"Samuels? What the fuck has _he_ got to do with this shit?!"

"Quite a lot, apparently. It seems he's gone to rather impressive lengths to keep an eye on your failing career. I guess getting promoted to Platoon Corporal has given him a little bit of pull."

"Samuels got promoted?" Marlowe said, disbelief evident in her features. "When did that happen?"

"About two years ago, which you would have known about had you not fallen off the face of the earth when you got out of NAVCON. Your unit was reconstituted after your hearing and Samuels really stepped up. Made Platoon Commander, 1st Lt, then got a field promotion to Corporal about a year ago."

"Well good for his ass, but I still don't see what that has to do with me."

"About six months ago, his platoon was out on patrol and came under heavy fire. He lost his corpsman."

"Shit," Marlowe sighed, "that's tough. Did I know him?"

"I think you might have. Mike Sutter? Originally from Kansas."

Marlowe nodded. "Yeah, I knew him. He was a pretty good medic."

"It was his 3rd tour too. Damn shame. Anyway, Samuels got a replacement in, but the word on the street is he wasn't really cutting the fuckin' mustard. You know how jarheads are. You got to be able to handle their shit in order to cover their asses, and while you know Samuels could be a goofball about some shit, he never was about doing the job."

"Yeah, there was that about him. He didn't suffer fools at all."

"Which is why it shouldn't be a surprise that he started putting out feelers to find out what your current sitch was. You ain't exactly been around, pretty much went underground when things went south. Now he's stateside."

"Get the fuck outta here!"

" _And_ he's not alone. 3rd Platoon, Golf Company, Regimental Combat Team 6 came home," Bear said quietly.

"Damn," Marlowe muttered. "Everybody? Safe?" she said hopefully.

Bear nodded. "A few newbies, but a lot of your brothers from back in the day-Gene, Dead Eye, Low Ball, Funky John, TJ, Big Mike-to name a few. I think they would really like to see you again. When their tour ended, the whole platoon was called back for more Special Forces Training. Some of them will be promoted and reassigned to form another combat team, but most of them will be sticking with Team 6 once training is done and will head back for another tour in about six months or so, give or take a month.

"Anyway, now that he's stateside, Samuels' been scouting for a new corpsman for the team and from what I can tell, his first order of business was to reach out through back channels to find your ass and discovered that you had relocated out here. I think it was just a matter of finding out your medical status which indicated that you weren't a serious head case that put you back on the radar as a usable asset again."

"And just how did he find out that shit? That's not some info that you can just pluck outta the fuckin' sky," Marlowe fumed.

Bear shrugged his powerful shoulders as he took another sip of his beer. "Your guess is as good as mine. My thing is that he must have had some powerful reason why he was so hell bent on getting your ass recalled to active duty."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Marlowe said in a challenging tone.

"Girl, don't act like you don't know. As long as I've known you, you've always had a thang for big, scruffy looking blond boys, of which Samuels is one," Bear grinned slyly. "What, did you think I didn't notice that shit the last time your ass was at Pendleton? I watched you train with the Marines, remember. And there was a time or two where I recall that the two of you seemed pretty cozy in the barracks." Bear chuckled. "I guess Samuels still has a powerful taste for a tall drink of water like you."

"Puh-lease! I didn't have anything serious with him," Marlowe retorted as Bear gave her the side eye. "Okay, so we bumped uglies a time or two. Now that you're retired, I don't mind admitting that he was a pretty good fuck buddy. So what? No harm, no foul."

Marlowe bit the inside of her lip as an image of Samuels came to mind. Tall, incredibly built, he had been a cross between a young Val Kilmer and Brad Pitt but with the killer instincts of Rambo. He had been hot as fuck and Marlowe felt a slight flush in her cheeks as she thought of one particularly wild ride he had given her after a three-day patrol in the mountains of Fallujah. Although fraternization was definitely a no-no and Marlowe had kept a strict professional attitude with the 38 Marines under her care, there had been a time or two where she had given into the lust of the moment. But that was all it was. He was a fucking good lay, but _nobody_ was as good as Jackson Teller. Now as Bear eyed her, it seemed as if he was intent on convincing her that her erstwhile booty partner had had more than just a passing interest in her.

Confirming her thoughts, Bear continued. "It seems like you're wrong on that account. Maybe you are nothing more than some dirty old sailor, but maybe _he_ was a little more interested than you think. In any case, Samuels' bringing attention to your status was just a start. He did a little campaigning for you too."

"What do you mean?"

"Well for one, he's spent a little time talking your ass up to several higher ups, reminding them of all your accomplishments in the field. That nobody did the job as well as you did and that you had balls of fuckin' steel. He's been saying that a lot of time and money was invested in you, that after serving your time in the Brig that you've obviously learned your lesson and bringing you back would probably lead to your reenlisting again, especially if they would put getting your rank back on the table."

"Are you kidding me?" she said quietly her gray eyes huge.

"Not kidding," Bear said in a smug tone. "I thought that shit would be of interest. Now, I've only heard snippets of talk and I'm not saying that anything will definitely come out of this. For all of his maneuvering, it's entirely possible that by the time anything was made definite and an offer extended, your temporary disability could run the clock out and your enlistment could be up and it would be a moot point unless you decided to re-up. How much time do you have left?"

Marlowe sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. "About six months."

"Shit, the way the bureaucracy works, you could end up filing your separation papers by the time they got around to calling you back and then they probably would have no choice but to give you an honorable discharge."

Marlowe raised an eyebrow. "And if they call me _before_ my time runs out?" she countered.

Bear stroked his chin in contemplation as he took a long sip of his beer. "Well, there is one route you could take to get out of it finishing your time, but it's not guaranteed to work, not that it's something that you're in a position to consider. So unless your ass can fake going out on a mental, you go back in and finish it out."

"Which would mean that I'd still probably be expected to do a full TOD," Marlowe sighed.

"Yeah, I'd say so. A full TOD is anywhere from six months to four years. Maybe you can finish your six months and file separation papers, but with the bureaucracy the way it is, the likelihood of you getting shipped back home will dwindled exponentially. You'll be 'talked to' and pressured to accept reenlistment."

"And if I don't?" Marlowe asked warily.

"The powers that be can drag their heels filing your papers." Bear grimaced. "You could end up serving an additional six months maybe even a year or more."

"Shit!"

"Yeah, girl, and you're thigh high in it," Bear commiserated. "So I guess from all this melodrama rolling off of you, you really don't want to go back, huh?"

Marlowe slowly shook her head. "Bear, I've done my time. Look, I was glad to serve my country and if shit hadn't gotten so twisted with the fragging, if the Panel hadn't pushed to make an example out of my ass, I might have still been there. There had been a part of me contemplating getting out after my second tour, but I had my FMF rating and I felt like I couldn't turn my back on that or my brothers. That shit was too hard won to just give up."

"Yeah, I know."

"But now, I've got a good life. A really good one."

"Well don't keep that shit to yourself," Bear invited. "Share."

And for the next twenty minutes, Marlowe painted a picture of her life in Charming, her job and most especially her old man and son. Pulling out her phone she displayed her favorite picture—Jax sitting astride his bike, with Marlowe leaning against him and holding a happy Abel in her arms.

"Well, shit," Bear grinned as he examined the photo. "Like I said, your tastes don't change. Pretty, blond and dirty, although the kid, that's a surprise." He looked at her wryly. "I thought you always said that you weren't mother—"

"—material," Marlowe concluded. "Yeah, I know." She grinned happily. "I was wrong."

"I can see that. Well then," Bear grinned, "maybe you could—"

"Maybe not," she said eyeing him grimly. "You gotta float before you can swim. In any event, the military life isn't what I want anymore."

"Looks like Samuels is going to be disappointed, probably in more ways than one."

"He will if I have anything to say about it," Marlowe said with determination.

"Well, then, I suggest you get to work on that. Like I said, I don't know if this shit is going to rain down on you or not, but now that you're aware, you've got some time to see if you can figure a way out of being called back. Your options are pretty limited, though. I would suggest feeling out your psychiatrist—that is if he—"

"She—," Marlowe said.

" _She_ can be trusted. You don't want it getting out that you're trying to dodge fulfilling your enlistment."

"No I don't," Marlowe agreed.

'Your psych eval will go a long way in determining whether or not you get called back for duty. How likely do you think it is that your doc will recommend you go back?"

Marlowe sighed. "Not sure. Dr. Bellows has been really helpful and supportive. When I told her I was going to be certified to be an EMT, she approved. I hadn't had an episode of PTSD in a number of months and I've been off the most debilitating of my meds for nearly a year. She felt that I could handle the pressure of civilian medical emergencies in NorCal, but that's a damn sight different that doing that shit under cover fire in Kabul."

"Well, if you're gonna try and feel her out be careful," Bear warned. "Some of these shrinks can really twist shit around in their reports."

"I don't get the sense that she's like that, but I'll keep your warning in mind." Marlowe sighed loudly. "I tell you Bear, I'm not sure how I'm feeling right now. This is really some news I don't want to hear and yet—"

"And yet the idea of getting back your rating, back pay and privileges are a big draw," Bear concluded.

"Yeah, it is. But the risks of going back in? I don't know if it's really worth it. My life is here in Charming with my old man and our son. I don't even want to think about how Jax would take it if I voluntarily went back or got recalled involuntarily."

"What? Is he some kind of control freak? That doesn't sound like your type."

"Not by any means, but we've been through a lot together and this is not the time for me to bail on him when he needs me the most."

"Then for your sake, I really hope you manage to avoid this shit, Marley. Look, you were one of the best squids I ever trained. If anybody could handle going back in, I know it's you, but if you go back—"

"I might not make it back home in one piece," Marlowe said glumly but it was Bear's next words that sent a chill down her spine.

_"Or at all."_

* * *

"Hey baby boy," Marlowe grinned as Abel ran up to her. She scooped him up and rested him against her hip. "Did you miss me today?"

"Uh huh," Abel nodded fiercely. "But I had a good time. See what I drawed?" He waved a piece of construction paper at her.

"Let me see," Marlow said excitedly and took the drawing from her son. It was a combination of stick figures and circles.

"See Mommy? That's you, me and daddy."

"He did it all by himself, too," Debbie, one of the teachers said proudly. "He wouldn't let anyone help him."

"Oh, baby you did such a good job," Marlowe praised her son who smiled sunnily at her. "We're going to have to hang this one up." Giving her thanks and telling Abel to wave goodbye, Marlowe exited Little Hands—and nearly ran right into Margaret Murphy.

"Excuse me," Marlowe said briskly. "I nearly ran you over." She watched as the woman smiled thinly.

"No problem I was in a rush myself," Margaret replied her focus totally on the little boy in Marlowe's arms. "Hello, Abel. My you've grown."

"Hi," Abel piped up cautiously. "Mommy, do I know this lady?"

"A long time ago when you were a baby," Marlowe replied evenly. "This is Miss Margaret. She works at the hospital."

"Hi," he repeated.

"I used to know your—" Margaret began and was cut off.

"—no one special, baby," Marlowe replied coldly as she bore a hole into the hospital admin. "Isn't that right Ms. Murphy?"

"Uh, yes," she replied after a moment. "No one special."

Marlowe headed out of St. Thomas and quickly strapped Abel into his car seat.

"Interfering old bitch," she muttered under her breath.

"What did you say Mommy?" Abel inquired.

"Nothing baby. Your mama just needs to keep an eye on somebody." Pulling out one of Abel's favorite new toys, a toddler tablet with specific programs designed to stimulate learning and handing it to her son, Marlowe got in the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot to head over to T-M.

Fuming at the antics of the hospital administrator, Marlowe wondered just what other shit was going to happen to ruin her day. Why in the world Margaret Murphy wanted to dredge up Tara Knowles to Abel was beyond her, but the bitch had better think twice before doing it again.

Shoving thoughts of the irritating woman aside, Marlowe instead reviewed her meet with Bear.

The bombshell of discovering that the Navy might want her back was a little overwhelming. Having gone through all that she had to learn her craft and earn her ranking had been extremely difficult. Being assimilated into the Armed Forces as a career soldier and dealing with all the ramifications that it had entailed had taken a toll on her mentally and physically.

The fragging incident had caused the loss of her rank and her imprisonment had effectively ended her military career. Although she had been extremely disappointed, her new life in Charming with her old man and son made Marlowe realize that she wouldn't have changed a thing about her past if it meant that she would have never had a future with Jackson Teller.

Now she had to face the real possibility that not only would she be recalled to active duty, but that she might not come home.

Marlowe had always tried to be realistic when it came to her service. She had known from the first that answering the call of duty could possibly entail her losing her life and she had been accepting of it. But now she had so much more to lose—her old man and son, her renewed relationship with Happy and her aunts, the new family that she had come to have with SAMCRO, and the new friendships that she had developed with Nico Torelli and Lyla Winston. But most important was the knowledge of knowing that she could truly be a good mother to a child.

She had so much to lose.

 _But it's not completely hopeless_ , Marlowe counseled herself. _I've just got to look at all of my options, and keep shit to myself for now._

Telling Jax and Happy about possibly being recalled was _not_ an option. Her old man had too much weighing on him now in his efforts to get the Club on the path to legitimacy, and he needed to be fully focused on that.

Happy was entirely different ball of wax. If she told him that there was a possibility of her being recalled, he would most definitely lose his shit. It had taken a while to repair their broken relationship—much due in part to Happy's anger at her joining the military in the first damn place. The last thing she wanted was to rip bandages off of old wounds.

 _So the best I can do is to keep this shit to myself_ , Marlowe thought as she approached the lot. _Maybe consider reaching out to Dr. Bellows and getting her spin on this situation and a possible work around_.

It would require very careful thought, however, but bottom line, a solution had to be found.

Because there was no way Marlowe was going to be parted from her family.

Not without a fight.

* * *

"There she is," Gemma exclaimed from her perch on top of the picnic table outside the Clubhouse. "Finally." She turned towards her son and fixed a stern eye on him. "I hope you are going to handle this shit."

"Ma, you need to chill, a'ight?" Jax ordered as he watched his old lady park her cage and get out retrieving their son from his car seat.

"All I'm saying that it's kind of fucking strange that this guy shows up out of nowhere looking for your old lady and you don't seem to be too concerned, especially since we don't know shit about him, and she's nearly an hour late with my grandson."

"Ma, I got this," Jax reiterated and forcing a smile on his face, watched as Abel broke free of his mother's hold and ran towards him. "Hi Daddy," he yelled.

Bending down, Jax scooped him up. "Hey little man. How you doing?"

"I'm fine," Abel replied giving him a hug before scrabbling down his father's body. "Hey Grandma. I'm going to go play," he announced as he made a beeline for the swings.

"Hey baby," Gemma replied her eyes firmly fixed on Marlowe. "Hi sweetheart. You're running a little late aren't you?"

"Hey Gem," Marlowe replied and reaching her old man, locked Jax's lips with her own. "Hey baby."

"Hey," he said quietly, his eyes searching hers. "You have a good day?"

"Actually, it was rather nightmarish," she replied. "Too many calls, not enough time. Me and Avery was literally rushed off our feet," and grinned as her old man frowned. "I promise you, Avery is keeping himself in line."

"He better be," Jax said a little ominously.

"Shit, brother, I don't know," Happy said as he walked out of the Clubhouse, a beer in his hand as he joined the conversation. "I still think Marley riding with Blondie ain't a good idea. All day riding around in that hot little box of a cage . . . and they got a gurney too? I didn't know my Prez was superhuman not to do shit about it. You must be real comfortable letting my little sister hang around that asshole all day long," Happy smirked as he watched the blue eyes of his brother shoot daggers at him.

"Piss off, Hap," Marlowe ordered a battle light in her eye. "I had a really bad day today and I don't need you starting any shit with my old man." She shrugged. "Well, there _was_ one bright spot in the day."

"What was that babe?"

"I had a blast from my past show up at my job. My former instructor and now retired, Chief Petty Officer Bear Williams," Marlowe said and turned to Gemma. "By the way, thanks for letting him know how to find me. It was really nice to see him after all these years."

"Oh, he told you he stopped here first, huh?" Gemma crossed her arms over her chest. "He seemed a little uninclined to share Intel on how he knew you."

Marlowe laughed. "That's Bear for you. He's not the Chatty Cathy type." She watched as her old man's shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Shit, it's too bad I wasn't here. I would have like to have met him," Jax said.

"Why? So he could tell you a bunch of old stories about me?" she teased.

"Yeah. You don't talk a lot about that shit."

"I guess because as far as I'm concerned its dead history now."

"So what did he want?" Happy asked guardedly.

Marlowe eyed her brother irritably. "Why does he have to 'want' something? Couldn't he just swing by to say 'Hi'?"

Happy shook his head. "No man drives hundreds of miles to see a bitch without wanting shit. Either he's looking to borrow money or he wants to get laid."

"You are such an ass—and completely wrong as he wanted neither," Marlowe shot back. "He's on his way to Oregon to do some fly fishing with a few friends and was passing through. He had heard that I ended up in NorCal and used an old connection to track me down since I hadn't seen fit to touch base after I went on temporary disability." Marlowe shrugged her shoulders. "He chewed me out for falling off the grid and encouraged me to come up for a visit to reconnect with some of my brothers."

"You gonna do it?" Jax asked with interest.

"I don't know," Marlowe vacillated. "Maybe. It was nice to see Bear again, but what I really want to do is to plan a trip to see Tía and Ceci so they can finally meet Abel in person for later this summer."

"I think that's a good idea," Jax agreed, feeling a lot calmer. His old lady's explanation regarding her former comrade in arms had satisfied his curiosity and dispelled the gloom and doom scenarios about Marley's mysterious visitor that Gemma had been seeding from the moment his ass had rode onto the lot. "Well, I don't know about you, but my ass is hungry. Let's get the kid and get home."

"Sure thing, but let's stop at Hanna's and pick something up because I'm not cooking shit," Marlowe called over her shoulder as she walked over to the swing to get their son.

Jax turned to his mother. "See Ma, there was nothing to worry about. Just one of Marley's old Navy buddies is all." He gave his mother a hard kiss on the lips. "You need to get a life," he ordered "and stop messing around in mine."

Jax turned and eyed Happy. "And you need to stop trying to start shit. You and I shut that shit down with Avery. Be cool," and turning he went to collect his family.

Gemma sidled up to Happy. "You really think that was all that was, just some 'old friend' catching up on old times?"

Happy swallowed the rest of his beer before putting the empty bottle on the picnic table. "It ain't like Marley to lie," he paused, considering. "But you heard your son. I guess we should let sleeping dogs lie—for now." He nodded. "Hear me Ma?"

"Yeah, whatever," Gemma shrugged before turning to head to the office.

 _The SAMCRO matriarch had a bee up her ass, there was no doubt about it_ , Happy thought as he watched Gemma stomp off.

The problem was, so did he.

Happy had known Marlowe from the time she was eight years old and knew every facet of her face, and every lie that she had ever told before she even thought of it—and he was pretty damn sure she wasn't telling the truth—at least not all of it—about her visitor.

Heading to his ride, Happy made quick work of suiting up. He'd mull this shit over some more after he and Tiny finished having their grub at her place.

But if Marlowe had something going on that she was hiding, Happy was sure about one thing.

He was going to find it out.


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. Harlee Quinn does, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe. I'm just taking them out for a spin!**

* * *

_**Stockton, CA—Wednesday, July 13, 2011** _

"I hate to say it," Dave Womack said with admiration in his voice, "but I have to give it to you for working this deal. I don't know how you got old Quigley to give up this place. You must have a silver tongue."

"More or less," Nico said with a crafty smile. "But there was a little more to it than that. The fact is Quigley can be downright accommodating when you use the right amount of pressure."

"I'll bet," the broker replied. "But what I'd like to know is just how much pressure you applied."

"All you need to know is to do your fucking job, which is to sell the damn building and keep your eyes in your fuckin' head—before I tear them out," Happy said with menace in his voice.

Biting back a sharp burst of laughter at the suddenly terrified man, Nico quickly tried to sooth the savage beast that was her man and all around bodyguard. "Calm down Hap. I'm sure Mr. Womack meant nothing by it," Nico lied easily. After all, she knew damn well when somebody was buttering her ass up and Dave's eyes had made no bones about the fact that he found her attractive. For his sake however, and for the sake of the Sons, Nico was determined that Womack didn't end up as fish food. After all, they were on a very convenient dock.

Nico eyed the sizable group of men currently standing in the middle of the large empty space of the first floor of what would be the new Cara Cara Production Studio. While some might feel a little uncomfortable being the only woman in a large group of men and the center of attention to boot, Nico felt very much at ease and completely in her element. Several members of SAMCRO, Quigley's broker Womack, and one of the Senior Project Managers of Torelli Construction & Supply Company had made the trip and had been on the premises for an hour. Dave Womack had taken the lead and had shown the group through the building as they went over the details of the final reports received from a third party inspector, as well as Stockton's Department of Building and Labor's report on its final analysis of the state of readiness of the building.

With the final disposition of Otto Delaney's former ownership in Cara Cara completed, the Club was now the official owners of the formerly defunct porn studio and were now in a position to purchase and renovate the building. After a number of meetings between Nico, Quigley, and his broker, and numerous evaluations of the building and various inspections, they were now having one final meeting before the closing, which was scheduled in a couple of days.

Nico was in her element in working behind the scenes and using what influence she had on the owner—Quigley's own dire financial situation with the Syndicate—to facilitate a quick and easy sale. While Quigley would come out on a loss on the deal—only managing to hold onto $50K after his debts were paid to the Syndicate—he would at least have his life, which was definitely more precious to him than he had realized.

Having an intense fear of dealing with Nico and her obvious hit man-slash-bodyguard sidekick, Quigley had used his broker to handle the rest of the negotiations and would only be present for the closing. Unfortunately for the broker, he hadn't quite got the memo that despite how attractive Nico Torelli was—she was off limits.

Apparently Happy Lowman had no problem making that shit perfectly fucking clear.

Finally reading the matter correctly, Dave had turned a shade paler but managed to keep his voice firm as he rambled off the final details before making his excuses to leave. Offering a hand to Nico but noting the fierce gaze of the man standing next to her, Dave withdrew his hand, mumbling a terse goodbye before quickly making his way towards the exit.

"Good work Hap," Bobby chuckled as the door slammed behind the broker. "Always send them running cover."

"Stop egging Hap on, Bobby," Nico said snarkily. "There was no need for him to go all ape shit on the man."

"Yeah there was," Happy replied his voice grim.

"I won't argue with my SAA," Jax said. "Hap is right. I saw that shit the minute he laid eyes on you. Was this your first time meeting him in person?"

"Yes," Nico rolled her eyes. "We had been working pretty much over the phone, since I didn't have time to meet with him as I was working on a couple of other items for you guys and needed to be in Charming."

"Good thing too," Happy groused."

"Okay, now," Opie said, the voice of reason. "Maybe we need to get back on point as to why we're here."

"Thanks Ope," Nico replied gratefully. "Now that he's is gone, let's go through the building again so that Scott here," nodding at the TCS rep, "can start to get a handle of what it is we need to accomplish to bring this building up to code."

"That sounds good to me Ms. Torelli," Scott said respectfully. "And now that one of the producers has arrived, we can start with the first floor and work our way through the building."

Over the next two hours, Scott took the Sons, Nico and Daniel "Danny" Morstan—a long time producer of porn with nearly twenty years in the business—around the three-story building. Danny's input was extremely valuable and would be a necessary part of outlining the needs of the studio, combined with analyzing the building specs to bring the building fully up to code.

Now as the group stood outside of the studio, Nico asked her project manager to give them his raw opinion of the site. "No doubt this is going to be an interesting job," Scott said. "Fortunately, the building is structurally sound which is very good. However, the electrical wiring is not only outdated, but with so much exposure to the damp elements of the water, it will definitely need to be replaced, which was why I had advised you lowballing your bid on this place. In addition, you will want to have substantial sound proofing here, and I strongly recommend a full sprinkler system. You need a good firewall for protection of the valuable computer and HD camera equipment; editing room, etc. The building is large enough to accommodate all of your needs: the studio itself, administrative offices, private session rooms, and a reception/media room for wrap up parties. You have a lot of needs here, but a great amount of space which can accommodate it all and with the architect Nico wants to bring on board who TCS has worked with in the past, this will turn into a top quality space. TCS will make sure of that."

"And what's that gonna cost us, laddie? Money doesna' grow on trees, ya know," Chibs asked.

"Once we get the architects renderings, we'll be putting together an estimate. We know you are special customers of Ms. Torelli, so believe me, we'll be gentle," Scott said gently.

"That's what I always tell the bitches, that is until I get my dick shoved right up their ass and then—" Tig said affably, only to get the back of his head slapped for his trouble by Happy.

"Gentle is exactly what we're looking for," Jax said grimly as eyed his brother and waited for his angry muttering to subside. "So what kind of time frame are we looking at?"

Scott cleared his throat delicately to hold back his own laughter before speaking. "Ms. Torelli says that you'd like to get the work finalized by the late fall, early winter. We got a lot of shit to take care of before we can start work—design schematics, budgets, building permits, etc.—so we won't probably get to strike a hammer to a nail until late August. We've got a number of jobs on the books, but I understand that this is a priority job, so we'll make it happen."

"That's what I like to hear," Jax said and offered a hand, which was shaken firmly.

With the conversation wrapping up as Scott promised to touch base with Nico and Jax once he had a meeting set up with the architect, both the project manager and producer made excuses of other commitments and left the rest of the group standing by their vehicles outside of their new building.

"Tig, you are a real mess, you know that right?" Nico rolled her eyes at the grinning man. "I've learned that I can always depend on you take shit to a whole other level—one that usually is not necessary."

"You know me Nico," Tig grinned. "I have a rep to protect. And besides, you should be used to me by now."

"Somehow, I don't think I will ever get used to you," Nico shot back and shook her head as his brothers laughed at her expense.

"We're an acquired taste," Bobby grinned, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "But it seems to me that you've adapted to some of us more than others."

"Enough of that shit," Happy growled. "We don't have all day to stand around here jawin' about shit. We've got another meet."

"And it will definitely be an interesting one," Jax agreed.

* * *

"Well if it isn't Handsome Jack," Charlie Barosky said with a grim smile, "and you brought a beautiful lady with you."

"Charlie you sweet talker," Nico said as the older man came from around the counter of the deli-slash-Italian bakery he owned to accept a warm welcome of a hug and a kiss on each cheek. ""I didn't know you kissed the Blarney Stone."

"I never did, darling. I speak only the truth," Charlie grinned. Noting the hard stare of the bald headed biker standing extremely close to Nico and getting the feeling that if he made any sudden moves he might end up bleeding out in his own deli, Charlie was a little less effusive in his welcome to the Sons. Pushing aside the feeling of wanting to feel his stiletto blade in his hand which was currently occupying the deep pocket of the large apron he wore, Charlie held out a hand to the man standing on her opposite side. "Good to see you again."

"Same here, old man," Jax replied. "You know my crew," and quickly made some reintroductions while he covertly eyed the older man.

The Lord of the Docks hadn't changed much since their first meeting last summer over the situation of the Ghanezi Brothers. Sporting slightly less hair, but a little fleshier in the face and an slightly expanded pot belly, Jax figured the man was hitting his baked goods a little much in his retirement.

The former police detective had been instrumental in getting some payback on the Iranian scumbags who had lured an unsuspecting Lyla Winston into participating in rape and torture porn flick and had died for that folly in the ultimate vengeance of the Sons. It was in the aftermath of the attack that Jax had discovered the huge cache of video equipment and props and he had negotiated a deal with Charlie for the Sons to take possession of the equipment, leaving the sizeable cash and drugs for Charlie and his crew.

Charlie had agreed and was gracious enough to hold the equipment in storage until Jax was ready to use them. Now that the Club was moving forward with the porn business, Nico had set up a meeting between the two groups to work out logistics for their relationship going forward.

With the deli temporarily closed for business, Charlie offered the Sons and Nico a seat while he had one of his workers pour out some fresh strong coffee and some pastries before they got to business.

"So," Charlie said cheerfully addressing Nico, "I've heard that you've settled shit up with Quigley on the sale of his building. Nice job."

"Thanks. It was a combined effort," Nico replied as she looked at Happy. "In the end, I made Quigley an offer he couldn't' refuse—and the Sons got themselves a new studio."

"Well, technically not new," Charlie replied, looking at Jax. "That shit needs a little work."

"Yeah it does, but with TCS handling the situation, we're hoping to occupy the building by the end of the year."

"That means you're going to have a lot of construction workers on site," Charlie surmised. "All types of building materials just lying around unattended and shit—makes for sticky fingers."

"Which is why we think we'd like to have some extra eyes and ears around," Jax said casually. "There's always going to be a need for security and when Cara Cara starts producing, our crew will be on hand to handle that shit, but in the interim we're thinking we might need some assistance."

"I think I might be able to swing you some extra bodies—for the right price, that is," the Lord of the Docks replied with a grin. "But a nice sized company like yours handling business on my dock, well, I think I deserve a little something extra for that shit, right?"

Nico sat back and watched as the two alpha males circled around each other and came to terms on security and a vig for operating on the Lord's dock would benefit each other. Nico had advised Jax and the Club that it was unlikely that Charlie would allow them to operate on his turf vig-free, but she had also talked with Charlie and asked him—out of regard for the relationship he had had with her own father back in the day—that he not take too large a bite of the Sons' earnings.

Charlie had said he would think it over and it seemed from how things were amicably concluding that he had seen the wisdom of being lenient.

With their business concluded, however, Nico saw that Charlie couldn't help himself at niggling at the Sons a little.

"I have to say I'm a little surprised, Handsome Jack."

"Really? At what?"

"I don't know a whole lot about your organization, but I had heard a lot about Clay Morrow. I never thought he was much of an entrepreneur—except for when he was selling items more likely to be found in a gun shop," Charlie smirked as he noted the younger man bristling.

"Well times are a'changing, Chas," Jax managed to say with a shit-eating grin as Charlie's eyebrows frowned. " _I_ am at the head of the table now, and I like to change shit up a bit. You know, diversify."

"I'm getting that. Not that you'll find a porn studio on the Fortune 500—it's a bit too dirty to be clean, but it ain't exactly outlaw either. What's with the change?"

"I just like having my fingers in a lot of pies," Jax said nonchalantly "You know, like you. After all, I wouldn't expect an ex-cop to buy into a deli of all places. Now a donut shop—" Jax trailed off and was rewarded with a loud explosion of laughter. "That I would have thought was right up your alley, although the cannoli here is probably better than any donut I've ever eaten."

"Touché," Charlie snorted. "I like your style, kid. I'm going to have to keep an eye on you."

"You do that."

* * *

_**Charming, CA—Thursday, July 14, 2011** _

"So you are ready to do this?" Nico asked, her tone serious as she eyed the woman sitting across from here.

"Shit yeah," Ima replied with excitement. "I barely slept a wink all night."

Sitting in the small conference room at Unser Trucking, Nico eyed the young woman with a measure of surprise at the picture Ima Tite made. Although wearing a tight designer bandage dress in white, Nico figured that it was probably the most conservative she had ever seen the porn star dressed. With the hem line coming down to just below her knee and a short but tight black shrug, Ima looked young, pretty and appropriately dressed for a business meeting. Apparently the woman had made a special effort for what would probably be the most important day of her life—signing on as a new producer of the rebooted Cara Cara Productions.

Nico had been initially surprised at Jax Teller's decision to offer the Ima an opportunity to take a step up the corporate ladder, so to speak, but it seemed that the SAMCRO Prez had been willing to offer Ima an opportunity and she was grabbing it with both hands.

At Jax's instruction, Nico had drawn up a contract for employment for Ima, to come in as a junior producer, aside from her continuing work in front of the cameras. She would work directly with another senior producer learning the ropes and working to expand Cara Cara's talent base, and to find new markets for the studio to present its brand. Nico had directed the wide-eyed Ima to have her own lawyer review the contract before the signing and the woman had done so and had come back with a couple of politely requested revisions and approving of them, Nico had realized that the young woman was a lot more savvy than she had initially given her credit.

Now, with Lyla on hand as a new notary, Ima was signing the contract that—if she managed to get through the six-month probationary period—would eventually reinvent herself as a major player behind the camera.

Signing the contract with a bold flourish, Ima happily turned to her friend who was affixing her official stamp to the document after notarizing the document. "Hurry up, Ly. Now that I'm officially on the payroll, I have a proposition for you."

"Well, look at you," Lyla said, smiling widely. "I guess you can't wait for us to go out for a celebratory lunch, huh?"

"Shit now! It's time to go to work," Ima said with a light in her eye. "Got to start earning my paycheck, which is why we need to talk. Ever since Jax approached me with this deal, I've been thinking about ways to expand the business using some of our best sellers to promote new films," Ima said craftily. "Now you know that the Saffron Society Sisters' films were a huge seller for the studio. I'm sure that if we did another sequel, we would make some mad money for the Club," she said triumphantly, proud of her new business acumen.

 _Well you can't fault the woman_ , Nico thought. _Cashing in on a former hit seller would definitely bring in the big bucks. Just ask Stephen Spielberg_.

But the last thing Nico wanted was for Lyla to even consider a return to the big screen. It was clear that in living her former life as a porn star that the young woman had really gone through some shit. She was finally living a productive and happy life with her old man and children and embarking on a new, although not terribly exciting career.

It seemed, however, that Nico shouldn't have been worried.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Lyla said decisively. "I'm afraid you're going to have to fly solo on this one."

"But—" Ima started and was interrupted.

"No buts," Lyla said strongly as she leaned back in her chair. "I'm done with porn, Ima. It's just not who I am anymore," she said quietly.

Nico watched as Ima reached out and squeezed Lyla's hand in a gesture of solidarity. "I get it," Ima replied. "You got a really good deal now that you worked things out with Ope." She smiled cheekily. "I guess I'm going to have to search high and low to find a new 'girl next door' type. I've got some ideas for finding some new talent. Will you at least let me bounce a few of them off you?"

Lyla rolled her eyes at Nico before shrugging her shoulders. "If you just want to talk—sure. But that's it. I probably won't be able to help you out much. I'm really busy here."

"I'll take whatever time you have to spare." Ima bounced in her seat excitedly.

Swallowing a sigh of relief at Lyla's good sense, Nico took the contracts and put them away in her briefcase. "Sounds like you have a lot of stuff lined up, Ima."

Ima nodded her head. "Yeah I do. I really want the Club to know that I'm really serious." She gave Nico a long calculating look. "It's too bad your into your lawyer shit. You don't look a day over 25. With a face and bod like yours—"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Ima," Lyla warned as Nico gave the new producer the hairy eyeball. "I'd hate to have to go to your funeral."

"What?" Ima pouted. "I was paying her a compliment."

"Well, considering that I won't ever see 25 again, I guess I can take it in the spirit in which it was given," Nico suddenly chuckled. "But don't do it again."

"Noted."

* * *

_**South Lake Tahoe, Nevada—Friday, July, 15, 2011** _

Diamond Jim's was an upscale gaming establishment and gentlemen's club located in South Lake Tahoe. As one of six clubs owned by the Torelli Syndicate in and around Lake Tahoe, it catered to a different sort of clientele than the large upscale casinos such as The Grange in Tahoe or Peppermill's in Reno that catered to a mostly tourist crowd.

With large rooms decorated in rich oak paneling, expansive rugs with beautiful gleaming bars, bright green felt tables and a huge lounge featuring the best in tasteful strippers, Diamond Jim's catered to rich, older businessmen, high rollers who liked to do their vices undercover and as such, the club was the place to be.

However, in one of the club's back rooms, two men were having a meeting but gaming was not on the agenda.

Sitting back on an expensive executive chair, Leonardo "Leo" Perelli sat back and listened to one of his lieutenant's as he outlined a point for consideration.

"If the Torelli's knew that we were involved in Gianni's botched hit, they would have taken action by now," Vincent "Vinnie" Lombardi reasoned. "Since they haven't, maybe we should just leave well enough alone—"

"Hitting them while they are at their weakest is an opportunity that only comes around once. Besides, things have quieted down so they won't suspect shit."

"Do you still think Rocco getting taken out in Vegas wasn't an accident?" Vinnie questioned.

"Just when he was getting ready to make our move against the Syndicate?" Leo scoffed. "I don't think so. He was surgically removed with a fuckin' scalpel, taken completely out of the equation. I'd almost admire the shit if it hadn't fucked up my plans. _I_ was supposed to kill Rocco's ass myself once we had secured the takeover. I'd have control over NorCal and Reno by now if shit hadn't gone south."

"It's a big enterprise, Boss, trying to take the Torelli's without a big enough crew on the inside, and now that Jimmy is training Dom to become the new head of the family—" Vinnie persisted, but was cut off abruptly.

"The boy is weak, too interested in street racing and running his penny ante crew than to focus on the empire that his father built for him. Dom has no real appreciation for his birthright," Leo replied tersely as he chewed on a cigar. "He isn't worthy to run the family and Gianni knows that shit. Bottom line, he and Jimmy have been screwing me over for years. They couldn't have done this shit," Leo waived an expansive hand at the furnishings, "without me. But what happens? Gianni runs shit in Reno and that piece of shit Cacuzza is given Oakland, but I—I'm regulated to handle this backwater shit. Do I look like I should be the Lord of the fucking Five Lakes?" he retorted.

"No Boss," Vinnie said as he eyed the under boss who was wearing a three-piece custom made Italian suit, his fingers bejeweled with diamonds, emeralds and rubies. "You're the man."

"You bet your ass I am. Gianni has gotten soft in his old age, but I'm still young enough to run shit, damn it. Over the last ten years, Gianni was always too preoccupied with his children and grandchildren and not focused enough on expanding our criminal enterprises. All that _la de da_ shit, the resorts, the restaurants, that shit is unimportant."

"You have to admit Boss it does bring in a lot of money."

"And where does it go, huh?" Leo said angrily. "Right into the government's pocket, that's where! And with so many outsiders investing in the properties, and paying out large salaries to a board of directors, we're lucky enough to scoop up the crumbs." Leo pointed his cigar at his man. "But the family's shit—the drug money, illegal gambling and prostitution, protection and extortion schemes—that shit is _all_ _ours_. But we've let things go and it's time we reclaim— _I reclaim_ —what's rightfully mine. Striking now while the little prince is preoccupied and the 'Don'," Leo sneered derisively "is unable to defend his powerbase makes the most sense. And it has to be done sooner than later. My contact at the Nevada Department of Corrections says that because of the cancer it looks like Gianni's application for early compassionate release is going to go through. So we need to cut off the head of his most valuable asset; then take out the rest of the fuckers while their scrambling for cover. When the smoke clears, the remaining bosses will see that _I_ should be running the Syndicate."

"I know Boss, and we had a window of opportunity, but we missed it."

"And it's a good thing you did, too," Leo retorted. "That shit was completely unsanctioned."

"Giuseppe—Gus—saw an opening—" Vinnie said evasively.

"—and had he taken it and had he been successful, the hit would have happened right on our fucking doorstep. His instructions were simple enough that a moron could have followed it—observe and report—that was it," Leo bellowed. "Trying to complete a hit on the fucking fly?"

"Boss, he wanted to impress you. He's trying to make his mark. After all, he is your nephew."

"Fuck that shit! There was too much room for error and a hit going down in Reno was much too close to home. What if his ass had gotten caught? Some enterprising hero could have stopped him before he got away and his dumb ass would be traced right back to me! Shit! If he had screwed shit up, my sister Sheila would have had to bury his ass." Leo breathed deeply. "My plan is better."

Leo pointed an authoritative finger at his lieutenant. "You are right, Vinnie. He does need to prove himself, so see to it, personally. I want no mistakes." He grinned as he sat back in his executive style chair and blew out a smoke ring.

"Nico Torelli had better be dead before summer's end or I'll have your guts for suspenders."


End file.
